


Steve Rogers x Reader One Shots

by DaisyErina



Series: Avengers x Reader One Shots [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Multi, Romance, Steve Rogers x Reader - Freeform, avengers x reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-26 22:43:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 51
Words: 68,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6258700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaisyErina/pseuds/DaisyErina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On FF.net and Quotev, I have an Avengers x Reader One Shots series. On here and Wattpad, I've separated them by character. I apologize if the descriptions are sucky. More recent requests will have the original request plot in the beginning. Older ones, like the entire Steve series, I had to come up with a quic description while posting them. They were written quite some time ago. I don't remember every story exactly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Independence Day

**Avengers x Reader Oneshots  
Disclaimer:** I do not own The Avengers or any characters within, nor do I own the reader or even the reader-insert story style. I own nothing. Fantastic.  
 **A/N:** Post-Avengers, pre-Winter Soldier. I’ve only watched it once and I understand Steve more in Avengers than TWS.

**Independence Day – Steve Rogers**

One thing you had learned early on in your relationship with Steve was that he absolutely loved the Fourth of July – Independence Day. An entire holiday dedicated to celebrating the United States of America.  
He hadn’t had much time since he had become unfrozen to enjoy America and how it had changed. He had been quite busy being an Avenger and helping his newfound teammates and friends save New York from various aliens and evil masterminds.  
So you can imagine that upon your reminder to him that the Fourth of July was only a few days away, he was quite ecstatic. He had gone all out, shopping at every store he could find (with you driving, of course, as cars had changed a lot over the past seventy years), buying up nearly every Independence Day flag, champagne class, centerpiece, and firework in their possessions.  
As soon as you pull your car into the driveway of your shared apartment, Steve jumps out and rushed to the back, yanking open the trunk and hastily grasping at the shopping bags, carrying three bags per hand into the apartment. His excitement boosts him so fast that you barely have time to throw your car into “park” before you push the driver’s door open and step out, digging your keys out of your pocket in your haste to beat him to the door so you can unlock it. You giggle as he rushes into the house and slowly walk back out to your car to fetch the remaining bags and close and lock the doors.  
By the time you make it into the apartment and close the door behind you, he’s already pulling every single item out of their plastic bags and organizing them on the table, scattering them here and there, deciding what should go where. You watch him with a soft smile as you drop your keys onto the table beside the front door and kick off your shoes. You let your jacket drop from your shoulders and drape it over the back of the armchair that sits on the edge of your living room. You step closer to the table, offering to help your boyfriend sort the decorations and then hang them, but he insists on doing it all himself. You can see the sparkle in his eyes as they scan all the merchandise that he bought, just like a child scanning the mountain of presents beneath the Christmas tree.  
“How about you take all of your toys to the living room and I’ll get started on the baking?” you offer, moving to stand beside your man and standing on your toes to kiss his chin. You’re not overly short, but his Captain America body makes him over six feet tall, which is too tall for you to reach his face without a little bit of effort.  
He turns to you and smiles, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. He nods eagerly, grabbing armfuls of his decorations and carrying them to the living room adjacent to the kitchen. He transports all of his items to the living room floor and lays them out, scattering and organizing just as he had on the kitchen table. You shake your head fondly as he “ooh”s and “awe”s over his toys. You fish your personalized cook book from the cupboard beside the fridge and opened it to the “Cookie” section. You thumb through the pages until you find “Sugar Cookies” and begin fetching the necessary ingredients. You dig out your favorite cookie dough mixing bowl from the cupboard beneath the counter and read off the measurements from your book, pouring the appropriate amount of each ingredient into the bowl. Once the dough is mixed, you maneuver the existing items in the fridge around in order to make room for the large mixing bowl. Sugar Cookie dough has to chill before it could be turned into cookies.  
While waiting for that, you flip through the pages of your book to find “Cakes.” You find a simple white cake recipe and gather the necessary ingredients, digging out your favorite cake mixing bowl as well. You also fish a couple bottles of food coloring from the baking cupboard before returning to the bowl and mixing the ingredients.  
Once the batter is mixed, you fetch a glass baking pan and grease it with butter before pouring the batter into the pan. You snag the spoon from the bowl and stuff it in your mouth, savoring the delicious taste of white cake batter. You then turn your attention to the batter waiting to be baked and grab the food coloring, squeezing droplets of red and blue dye into the white batter. It swirls on its own, mixing into a red, white and blue confection waiting to be cooked. Smiling to yourself, you open the door to the pre-heated oven and shove the pan in, setting the timer and sauntering into the living room to check on your boyfriend.  
A rope suspending a dozen miniature American flags is pinned with staples above the front door. Flag-printed pinwheels sit on either side of the TV. Red, white and blue streamers are strung across the room, crisscrossing on the ceiling, pinned to corners of the apartment with staples and thumbtacks. A brand new fleece blanket, blue with red and white stars, is draped gracefully along the back of the suede loveseat, giving the beige couch a splash of color.  
“Oh, Steve,” you breath in awe. “It looks wonderful!”  
Steve smiles and stands, walking over to you with an item in his hand. He kisses your forehead. “I’m glad you like it. It feels good celebrating America again.”  
You watch as he walks to the kitchen table, placing the item he had been carrying in the center. It’s a paperweight wrapped in shiny, starry wrapping paper, with red, white and blue balloons floating up from it.  
He walks back to you and wraps his arms around your waist, kissing your nose. You giggle and tilt your head up to capture his lips. “Is that all?”  
“Nope,” he grins. “There are more decorations for the porch.”  
“Show me!” you insist, jumping slightly. He chuckles, plucking the final two shopping bags and taking it outside. He reaches into one and produced three short glasses, three bags of marbles, and a handful of miniature flags attached to sticks. He spaces the glasses out upon the porch railing, filling each glass three-quarters full with red, white and blue marbles. He then sticks three flags into each glass. You smile up at him as you watch how much love and care he puts into his decorations.  
He reaches into the other bag and pulls out a long rope with dozens of red, white and blue stars attached, similar to the rope with the miniature flags. He sauntered through the opening of the porch, circling around to the front to pin the stars across the banister. From the same shopping bag, he produces thin poles with bunches of red, white and blue tinsel at one end, similar to a cheerleader’s pom-poms. He sticks them into various plants and other miscellaneous objects that decorate the porch. You smile as he returns to your side.  
“It’s perfect,” you tell him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He wraps an arm around your back and kisses your nose.  
“Almost,” he says.  
He chuckles at your furrowed eyebrows, reaching his free hand into the last grocery bag, returning with two miniature star-spangled top hats. Each is attached to a string meant to go beneath your jaw. You raise a brow as he removes his hand from your back to set the hat on your head and stretch the string around your face. You snag the other hat from his hand and copy his movements, placing it on his blonde head. He kisses you sweetly, wrapping his arms around your waist while you wrap yours around his neck, pulling each other closer.  
An unpleasant but familiar beeping sounds from within the apartment and you pull away with a grin. “The cake is done.”  
You lace your fingers with his and pull him into the apartment, leading him to the kitchen. Slipping on a pair of oven mitts, you open the oven and retrieve the freshly baked multi-colored cake. You set it on the stove to cool and remove the mitts, heading to the fridge to retrieve the cookie dough. You giggle as his face lights up – you recall him admitting to you that sugar cookies are his favorite, a factoid that you had kept with you for several months.  
You fish wax paper out of one drawer and a rolling pin from another, as well as several flavors of frosting and tins of colored sprinkles from the baking cupboard. Placing the equipment and decorations on the table, you lay the cookie dough between two sheets of wax paper and rolling it out.  
“Could you get the cookie cutters from on top of the fridge, please?” you request of your boyfriend, turning to shoot him your most innocent eyes and smile. He returns the smile, fetching the large bag of questionably shaped cookie cutters with ease. He hands you the bag, which you set on the table. Once the dough is rolled out on the paper, you open the bag and offer Steve to pick a few shapes. He eagerly digs through the bag, producing a large heart, a large flower, a five-pointed star, and an eight-pointed star. As he begins penetrating the dough with the cutters, you fish through the bag yourself, selecting a bunny, a cat face, and a Captain America shield. He raises a brow at you upon noticing the detailed shield, clearly confused as to when and where you came into possession of it. You giggle.  
“Shortly after The Avengers formed, merchandise for you guys started showing up everywhere. T-shirts, headphones, posters, you name it. I happened to find Avenger-themed cookie cutters at the store, so I bought some,” you explain.  
“Do you have the others as well?” he wonders.  
You nod and dig through the bag again, retrieving Iron Man’s mask, Thor’s hammer, Black Widow’s symbol, the Hulk’s face, Hawkeye’s bow, and even Loki’s helmet.  
“They even have stuff for Loki?” Steve wonders incredulously.  
You nod again. “He’s not quite as popular, but he’s got some followers.”  
Steve shakes his head and continues cutting the dough. You smile and help, throwing in various Avenger cookie cutters. You sprinkle a few of the cookies with red, white and blue sugar crystals before setting the stray of shapes into the oven, rolling out more dough as the first batch bakes.

Once all of the dough has been shaped and baked, you and Steve decide to relax on the couch while everything cools. You can’t very well frost cookies or a cake if it’s too hot.  
Steve is lying on the couch, his head resting against one arm, eyes closed peacefully. You’re lying on his chest, snuggled safely in his arms, your own arms tucked into his sides. You lift your head slightly to press a kiss to his jaw, catching his attention. He smiles and tilts his head down, pressing his lips to yours. You sigh contently before returning your head to his chest, soon falling asleep, listening to his heartbeat.


	2. For the Love of America

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You meet none other than Steve Rogers when you go to a Yankees game.

**For The Love of America**  
Request for _TheSilverScorpion_  
 **A/N:** Forgive me, I know nothing about baseball except for a few key terms learned from the few times I was forced to play in elementary school.

You alternated between bouncing on the balls of your feet and rolling back on your heels as you stood in line, waiting for your turn to present your ticket and gain entry into the stadium. You’d been waiting for this event for months!  
A few months ago, you heard about a New York Yankees (1) game coming up in your home town, and you were absolutely dying to go. Shortly after the game started being advertised, you’d heard a contest on the radio offering a free ticket to the game if you could guess the song they were playing. You were the first to guess, thanks to your hobby of constantly listening to that radio station. You won the ticket and it was shipped directly to your apartment.  
All that was left was to jump around your apartment like a bunny on steroids, waiting for time to pass until the day of the game.  
So here you were, dressed in your blue, grey and white jersey which sported the number of your favorite player, accompanied by faded blue skinny jeans and black Converse All-Stars.  
You finally came to the front of the line and fished through your jean pocket for your ticket – only for it to not be there. Fighting your panic, you dig through your other front pocket, then the back ones. Your panic grew as you looked around on the ground, wondering how your ticket could have escaped your pocket.  
“Is this yours, ma’am?” a familiar voice called from behind you. Turning around you came face-to-face with none other than Steve Rogers. You took the ticket from his hand and flipped it over, finding your name scribbled across the back just where you had written it.  
“Thank you,” you said softly, still in awe of the fact that you were talking to Captain America.  
“No problem, ma’am,” he smiled.  
“Captain America!” the ticket taker gasped, resting a hand over her heart dramatically. She looked ready to faint.  
He smiled again and nodded. “Pleasure to meet you.” He then turned to you. “Are you here alone, ma’am?”  
Fighting back the urge to pass out because you’re standing there with Captain freaking America, you nodded. “Yes, I am.”  
“Could I accompany you, then?” he asked sincerely.  
The only response you could manage was, “Why?”  
“You look like an honest fan,” he answered. “And going to games by yourself can get lonely.”  
“Sure,” you nodded slowly, in shock. You could see the rest of the line from the corner of your eye – every single female was glaring at you, whether or not they were with a date.  
He smiled and turned to the ticket taker. “Here you go, ma’am,” he said, passing over his ticket. She nearly melted as her fingers brushed against his. He then extended an arm for you to loop your own arm through. You smiled and did so, following the Captain into the stadium to find your seats.  
The afternoon continued with you smiling and laughing and Steve buying you popcorn and soda. He sat by you through the whole game, his own smile growing as your enthusiasm rose. Halfway through he took a chance and draped his arm across the back of your seat invitingly. With a blush staining your cheeks, you scooted closer to the Captain and rested your head on his shoulder.

When the game was over and the Yankees had won, you stood to leave when a hand gently grasped your wrist. You turned to see that the culprit was Steve, smiling innocently at you.  
“Can I walk you home, ma’am?” he inquired.  
You offered him a soft smile and nodded. “That’d be nice.”  
Your apartment was only a few blocks away, and there was enough sun in the sky to result in a pleasant stroll home.  
He stood and gathered his things, tossing his trash in the nearest bin as you left the stadium. As you began walking in the direction of your apartment, his hand brushed against yours as if asking permission to grasp it properly. Taking a leap of faith, you slid your hand into his, lacing your fingers together. You felt him relax slightly, relieved that you hadn’t pushed him away. He even squeezed your hand gently.  
Upon arriving at your apartment complex, you led him up the stairs to your front door.  
“This is me,” you said, turning to look up at him. “I had a great time.”  
“As did I, ma’am,” he replied with a smile. “Do you think you’d like to go on a real date with me sometime?”  
You smiled back. “I think I’d love to.”  
He leaned closer to you, planting a kiss on your cheek. He then took your intertwined hands and brought them to his mouth, kissing the back of your hand. “Dinner tomorrow night?”  
“Pick me up at seven?” you giggled.  
“I’ll be here,” he smiled. With that, he reluctantly released your hand and turned around, walking back down the stairs to the parking lot.  
Your smile never faded as you entered your apartment and began preparing dinner.

 

(1) I figured most Marvel universes are based in New York, and that’s one of the few teams I know.


	3. Running Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You finally get to talk to Steve Rogers while you're out for your morning jog.

**Running Love**  
Request for _Kat_  
**A/N:** Post-Winter Soldier-ish, so he understands a bit more about modern-day New York.

You pulled your (h/l)(h/c) hair into a high ponytail (A/N: unless your hair’s too short) and connected your headphones to your iPod, slipping it into your armband. You slipped on your running shoes and left your apartment, locking the door on your way out. You adjusted your (f/c) tank top and (f/c) sports capris, walking to the end of the block. There you broke into a run, turning the corner and giving a sigh of relief as the morning breeze blew past your face.  
You loved mid-morning runs. You didn’t like to get up exceptionally early, when the sun’s barely awake and the air is freezing. You prefer to wait until eight or nine in the morning, when the sun’s bright and shiny and offering a warm glow to everything the light touches (1).  
You were in the middle of your run when you crossed paths with the one and only Steve Rogers. You had seen him running his own path while during your morning routine, and you always smiled at the fact that you lived in a city where you could see Captain America doing his own daily routine like a normal human being.  
Which he wasn’t, but that’s beside the point.  
You offered him a friendly smile as you passed, which he returned. Butterflies invaded your stomach as you continued your run. Okay, so maybe you had a crush on the Captain. A lot of girls did. And so what if he was technically old enough to be your grandfather – he was also technically still only twenty, just like you.

It began happening more and more often. Almost every day now, in fact. You would go for your morning run, and you’d cross paths with Steve, and you’d smile at each other like old friends and then be on your separate ways.  
Well, you decided to change that.  
The next morning, you did indeed find Steve again. But this time, you turned yourself to keep up with him, jogging beside him instead of away.  
“Hey there,” you greeted.  
“Hi,” he smiled.  
“You’re Steve Rogers,” you breathed.  
He chuckled. “Yes, ma’am.”  
“My dad’s told me a lot about you.”  
“I get that a lot.”  
You both decided to take a break, sitting on a bench at a nearby park.  
“I don’t mean to sound like my dad, but I’m a big fan of yours,” you gushed breathlessly.  
“Thank you, ma’am,” he smiled. “Who’s your dad?”  
“Phil Coulson.”  
“Ahh, Agent Coulson,” Steve nodded. “He was a great man.”  
“Yeah, he was…”  
“He never mentioned having a daughter.”  
“He kept that information from a lot of people. Didn’t wanna risk putting me in danger.”  
Steve nodded again. “That makes perfect sense. He was a very caring man. I’m sure he wanted the best for you.”  
You couldn’t help but think that the best thing for you would be to find a man like your father’s favorite hero… or your father’s favorite hero himself.  
“I don’t mean to sound forward, ma’am,” Steve began gently, “but I would be honored if you’d join me for lunch this afternoon.”  
You bit your lip with a smile. “I’d love to.”

He took you to a local café after learning that you only drink coffee with your oxygen (4). He found you a table in the corner near the back to allow more privacy, noticing your shyness during the walk there. You thanked him for his thoughtfulness as you sat down.  
“I’ll go order our drinks,” he offered. “What would you like?”  
“I’ll have a (f/drink), thank you,” you replied. He smiled and headed up to the counter to order. You could see the barista from where you sat, and she was clearly flirting with the Captain. She giggled as she scribbled down his order and went to make the drinks. She giggled again when she handed the drinks to Steve and blushed profusely when he left her a large tip.  
He returned to you with your drinks and a couple of muffins – (f/muffin) for you and blueberry for himself. He slid your drink and muffin to your side of the table before sitting across from you. “I don’t mean to sound like a stalker but I’ve seen you running down this block before but I didn’t have the courage to approach you.”  
“Aw, the great Captain America was shy?” you giggled.  
A blush crossed his cheeks. “You could say that, ma’am.”  
“I can’t say I was much braver,” you admitted. “I’ve seen you on my run and I wanted to say hi but I figured I’m just a girl – I couldn’t be of interest to Steve Rogers.”  
“I’m just a guy, ma’am,” he replied, sipping his drink. “I may be an Avenger but I’m still human. I don’t want to be treated like a celebrity.”  
“I get that,” you replied, “but it’s hard not to treat you like a celebrity. You’re the man who survived seventy years in ice, America’s greatest hero, the living legend. You’re a big deal to this country, and New York especially.”  
He smiled. “You’re first girl I’ve talked to that hasn’t completely, uh, freaked out upon meeting me. You’re real. I like that.”  
“I like being real myself,” you giggled again. “It’s better than being imaginary.”  
He laughed and continued to smile at you, talking and sharing stories with you, completely losing track of time.

Hours later, the two of you finally leave the coffee shop to see that it’s almost dark out.  
“Wow, it’s getting late,” you noted. “Sorry to keep you out so long.”  
“No apology necessary, ma’am,” he replied. “I had a great time.”  
“I did, too.”  
“May I walk you home?” he asked, looking down at you.  
You looked back up at him with a smile. “I’d love that.”  
He walked you back to your apartment with you leading the way. He wrapped his hand around yours, your smaller hand fitting perfectly inside his. You smiled to yourself as you neared your apartment. You held back a sigh of disappointment as you reached your door.  
“Here we are,” you said softly.  
“Do you think we can go out again?” he inquired.  
“I’d be honored,” you replied with a smile.  
He leaned down to press his lips yours softly. Your eyes fluttered closed as your chest exploded with butterflies.  
He pulled away all-too soon, still smiling. “Tomorrow?”  
“Tomorrow,” you agreed. He pecked your cheek before turning and walking away, leaving you to smile like a teenage girl as you entered your apartment.

 

(1) Eh? Anyone? I had to, sorry.  
(4) It’s a TV show reference, ha, sorry.


	4. My Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hydra kidnaps you and a certain soldier comes to the rescue.

**My Hero**  
Request for _Bails_

 

You waken feeling weak and light. As you slowly regain consciousness, you notice that you can’t feel the ground beneath your feet. Confusion fills your thoughts as you look around, taking in the dark and gloomy dungeon you’re locked in. You panic as you realize that your arms are suspended above your head, your wrists on the receiving end of skin-tearing shackles. You bite your lip as tears continue to stream down your cheeks – you hadn’t noticed the dried tears until now – and blood dripped down your wrists as barely-healed scabs reopened, thanks to your wrists rubbing against the rusty restraints.  
Your vision is blurry from your tears, you feel lightheaded from being suspended for Odin-knows-how long, your stomach feels as though it’s been empty for ages – which it very well may have been. All you want to do is collapse on the floor and pass out, but you can’t. All you can do is hang from the hook that protrudes from the ceiling and hope that whoever did this will let you go.  
Two dark, bulky figures step into your vision. “She’s awake,” one states.  
“Time to answer some questions,” the other says gruffly, stepping closer to you.  
You grunt in response – apparently you can’t talk either.  
“Where is Captain America?” the first one asks, his voice higher and less intimidating than the other’s.  
“I… I…” you began, unable to form a single word, much less a complete sentence.  
“Speak, you wench!” the other cries, his large hand coming down hard on your cheek. Surely there’ll be a bruise there later.  
“Ungghhh…” you groan, your head falling forward. Your energy is completely drained, making you unable to do much of anything.  
“She won’t be speaking any time soon,” the lighter one states.  
“She has the information we need,” the gruff one argues. “She needs to speak.”  
“She can’t,” the other insists. “She’s too weak. She’s been in here for two weeks. It’s a wonder she’s awake at all.”  
The other huffs, clearly upset that you’re unresponsive. “Let’s tell the boss.”  
With that, they leave. You hear the shuffling of their heavy boots across the concrete floor.

“Where is she??” a worried Steve cries as he enters the science lab where Tony and Bruce are looking at a computer screen.  
“Working on it,” Tony replies, shoveling blueberries into his mouth.  
“Got her,” Bruce states, pointing to the screen.  
“Oh, no…” Tony sighs as he looks.  
“What?” Steve inquires worriedly. “Where is she??”  
“HYDRA’s got her,” Bruce states apologetically.  
Steve freezes. HYDRA. One of the worst organizations in the world, and they’ve kidnapped the love of his life.  
“We can find her,” Tony insists. “We know what city she’s in, all we have to do is pinpoint the building they’re occupying and break her out.”  
Steve nods slowly, his thoughts zoning in on how to save you. He knew he shouldn’t have let you take that mission alone. He wanted someone to go with you, but Fury insisted that you were capable of handling yourself.  
Of course, tracking down or infiltrating HYDRA’s base was not part of the mission.

The trio decide to inform Fury and the others of your situation.  
“What do you mean, she’s been captured?” Natasha inquires, unbelieving that a highly trained SHIELD agent such as yourself could be kidnapped so easily.  
“HYDRA’s got her,” Bruce sighs as eyebrows fly up across the room.  
“We have to go after her,” Clint states, jumping to his feet.  
“Agreed,” Natasha nods.  
“(y/n) is a skilled agent, but even she can’t take HYDRA on herself,” Fury says with a sigh. “Time for the Avengers to assist her.”  
“What is this HYDRA?” Thor inquires, confused.  
“It’s a long-lived band of bad guys bent on world domination,” Natasha explains. “They were a big deal in the 40s, when Captain America here first started out.”  
“They call themselves HYDRA after the mythological monster,” Bruce adds. “They pride themselves on the fact that they can recruit new members every time one of their own leaves or dies, much like how the mythical monster can regrow two new heads for every head that gets cut off.”  
Thor nods slowly, brows furrowing together, deciding that a young maiden such as yourself should not be caught up with such a group.  
“Let us go rescue her!”

A rough hand grips your chin none-too-gently, forcing your eyes to meet his. Your eyelids droop tiredly as you have even less energy than the last time these goons came to bug you.  
“Speak, wench!” he growls. You winced at the foulness of his breath and the roughness of his grip. All you could manage was a small gasp.  
“She’s not going to know where the Captain is,” the other goon states. “She’s been unconscious for three days – she may not even remember who Captain America is.”  
“Do you?” the rougher man demands. “Do you remember him?”  
You try to look up at the man, but your head falls back and your eyes rolls back into your skull, ready to fall unconscious once more.  
“She’s still useless!” the rough goon cries, letting your face go with a shove and stepping away.  
“How nice of you to reveal yourselves,” a familiar but faded voice calls smugly. You try to look in the direction of the voice but you’re too weak.  
“Who the hell are you?” the rough goon demands.  
“You’re than Iron Man loser, aren’t you?” the lighter man guesses.  
“I. Am. Iron Man,” the very Tony Stark voice replies, lifting a metallic hand to shoot a plasma bolt at the goons. They go flying into the opposite wall and he, Thor, and Bruce – who is currently in the process of Hulking out – stand and face the goons while Steve, Clint, and Natasha find you.  
“Oh, (y/n)…” Steve sighs miserably. “I’m so sorry.”  
You groan in reply unable to speak.  
“There’s plenty of time for apologies later,” Clint states, looking at your restraints. “Let’s focus on getting her out of here.”  
Steve nods and, being tall enough to easily reach your shackles, examines them carefully. “Hey, Thor.”  
“What is it, Captain?” the god inquires as he sends his hammer hurtling towards the rougher henchman.  
“Do you think you can snap these shackles without hurting (y/n)?” Steve asks.  
Thor rushes over to examine your restraints. “Yes, I can.” He takes a hold of one shackle before looking at Steve. “You may want to hold onto her; she will fall when the restraints are broken.”  
Blushing, Steve wraps his arms around your waist, ready to support your weight. Thor snaps the cuff in half easily, letting your arm fall limply to your side. He moves around to snap the other cuff, watching as your entire body fell into Steve’s. He tightens his arms around you, gently lowering you so that your feet touch the floor.  
Your knees buckle due to your lack of strength. Steve notices and removes one arm, moving to hook it under your knees. He lifts you up bridal style, looking down at you sadly.  
“Get her back to the Tower and into the infirmary,” Natasha orders him. “We’ll take care of HYDRA.”  
Steve nods and runs, dashing past various henchmen that come barreling at him in a failed attempt to stop him.

You waken a few days later in the infirmary. You blink a few times, your eyes adjusting to the warm light enveloping the room. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen such a pleasant light. The dungeon you were locked in was always dark and cold. You’d almost forgotten what light and warmth felt like.  
You turn your head to the side with a gasp, realizing just how sore your neck is. Thinking back, you recall how your head always hung, pushed down by your arms being suspended above your head. You never really moved your neck. You can guess how that would affect your muscles.  
Gently turning your head to the other side, you find an exhausted-looking Steve passed out in a chair. A blush rises to your cheeks as you wonder how long he’s been sitting here with you.  
As you stare at who you presume must have been your savior, he wakens and smiles at you.  
“Thank God you’re awake, (y/n). I was so worried.”  
“I didn’t mean to worry you,” you mumble tiredly.  
He scoots his chair closer and you now realize that your hand has been enveloped in his. It’s warm and inviting, and you hope he doesn’t move it.  
“We were all worried, I mean,” Steve corrects. “You were missing for two weeks. We had no idea where you were.”  
“Two weeks?” you manage. “I had no idea it was that long.”  
“I guess you couldn’t really keep track of time in there, could you?”  
You shake your head weakly. “It felt like weeks being in there, but at the same time, just a few minutes. I couldn’t even tell if it was day or night.”  
He presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’m glad we found you before worse things could happen.”  
You offer a small smile. “Me too. I was too weak to give them any information, so they settled for hitting me when I didn’t talk… Who knows what they would have done if I’d stayed longer.”  
His brows furrow in worry, clearly upset by what HYDRA’s goons put you through. He presses a longer kiss to your temple, sighing softly against your head. “I will never let that happen to you again, (y/n). I promise.”  
“It’s fine, Steve,” you reply, unsure of his intentions. “I won’t get caught again. I’ll make sure not to take any lone missions.”  
He pulls back just enough to look at you. You look back quietly.  
“I need to tell you something,” he whispers. You continue looking at him, silently urging him to continue.  
He looks down, hesitating, before looking back at you. “I love you, (y/n). I’m in love with you. I want to be with you and protect you and keep you by my side for the rest of my days.”  
Your heart warms as a new blush claims your face. A smile forms on your lips. “I love you too, Steve.”  
He smiles, pulling closer to you. “Will you be my girlfriend, ma’am?”  
You nod. “Of course I will.”  
He leans over you, gently pressing his lips to yours. His free hand moves to cup your cheek, deepening the kiss.  
“Well, it’s about time,” Tony calls from the doorway. Steve pulls away to look at him.  
“Go away, Tony,” he calls, turning his attention back to you. He kisses you again, ignoring the wolf whistles coming from the doorway.


	5. Out the Window

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Instead of staying safe in the Tower, you decide to jump into the line of fire.

**Out The Window**  
Request for _lupeee_

 

Being the child of the one and only Tony Stark meant that you had met all of the Avengers and a couple of SHIELD agents. Fury had repeatedly warned Tony against introducing you to the team for fear that his enemies could get wind of your existence and use you as leverage. But Tony deemed it more dangerous to leave you in the dark – at least if you were kidnapped having met the Avengers, you’d understand why. If your father’s enemies really wanted to hurt him, they’d find out about you on their own, and you wouldn’t have a clue what was going on.  
So Tony confidently introduced you to the team – Steve, Bruce, Clint, Natasha, Thor, even Loki, Phil, and Maria. You’d been excited to meet all of them, but Steve caught your attention the most. You’d heard stories about him from your dad, who heard them from his dad, and though you knew your father hated him, you couldn’t figure out why. You thought he was cute, sweet, polite, and a good guy.  
Don’t tell your dad that, though.

Your father was determined to keep you safe at all costs. So when Loki and his army of evil alien monsters attacked New York, your dad ordered you to stay inside the Tower and stay hidden.  
You argued that the Tower would be the most likely target, given that it had your family name plastered on it, and that Loki wanted to bring all of the Avengers to their knees.  
But you lost the argument, following the instructions to stay on the lower levels of the Tower which would be less likely to be mutilated since almost every fighter on either side could fly.  
Frightened of what would become of your father and your hometown, you took refuge in one of the spare rooms on the third level. You had JARVIS to keep you company, but it was of little comfort.

Unfortunately for the team, you were a Stark, and if that meant anything at all, it meant that you weren’t particularly keen on following directions that weren’t your own.  
You quickly grew bored of utilizing the spare room on the floor above the garage and began wandering through the tower, wondering how high you’d have to go to at least hear the war happening outside. The floor you were on offered a faint buzzing noise from within the lower levels of the tower. The entire building had extra thick walls to protect Tony’s precious creations and cars, but the lower levels had fewer windows, given the fact that they were rarely used.  
You rode the elevator one floor at a time, taking a break at each one to see if it contained anything that could keep you entertained for more than a few minutes. When you reached the main entertainment level, you ran to your dad’s DVD collection, scanning each and every one – which you had organized first by theme and then by alphabet in a fit of OCD – to find your favorites. You selected The Little Mermaid, which had plenty of songs to keep you distracted, plus your love for mermaids. You set it in the DVD player before grabbing the DVD and TV remotes and plopping down on the couch.  
You were halfway through singing along to “Under the Sea” when some kind of alien monster crashed into the Tower, smashing through the extra thick walls and windows and sliding across the floor. You screamed and bolted from the couch, running towards the elevator in hopes of returning to the safety of the lower levels.  
You weren’t fast enough.  
The alien recovered before you could open the elevator doors. It crawled across the floor, gripping at your legs, making you trip. You cried out as your knees hit the floor and your hands flailed out in front of you in a futile attempt to catch yourself. You groaned as you tried to push yourself up, but it morphed into a scream as the creature lifted you up by your legs and hurled you out the window.  
Your scream continued as loud and high-pitched as could be as you went flying through the air. You gathered all of your strength and crossed your arms over your face, preparing to hit whatever hard surface you landed on. You presumed that it wouldn’t be a kind fall; that you may very well die from it. Good job, (y/n). You did exactly what the entire team told you not to.  
Your screams were quieted as you realized that you hadn’t hit the ground or a hard building. You’d been caught by a pair of strong, comforting arms. Slowly lowering yours, you looked up at your savior, surprised to see it was none other than Captain America. A blush rose to your cheeks as you stared at him.  
“Thank you!” you gasped. “I thought for sure I was done for!”  
“No problem, (y/n),” Steve replied with a small smile, setting you on your feet on the roof of the building you almost crashed into. “But what in the world are you doing out here?”  
“I, uh… I got thrown out of the window…” you admitted, looking down at your hands.  
“How did you get thrown out of the window? Only one creature attacked the Tower, and it was on one of the upper levels.”  
“Heh, yeah, about that…”  
Steve looked at you sternly. “What about that?”  
“I wasn’t exactly where I was supposed to be,” you mumbled.  
“And where were you?” Steve questioned.  
Before you could respond, an alien came flying at full speed in Steve’s direction.  
“Duck!” he yelled at you, bending his knees to cover his entire body with his shield. He pushed you behind him in order to shield you as well. You squealed in fright as the creature crashed into the shield, pushing you and Steve back a few feet. The creature then fell to the ground at least a hundred stories below.  
“This is exactly why Stark wanted you to stay in the Tower,” Steve sighed, turning to look at you.  
“Technically, I did stay in the Tower,” you defended, crossing your arms over your chest. “I stayed inside the Tower until I was thrown out the window.”  
“(y/n)!” a familiar voice yelled. You turned to see Iron Man landing a on the roof of your building.  
“Hey, Dad,” you greeted.  
“What the hell are you doing out here?” he cried. “You were to remain in the Tower no matter what!”  
“And I did!” you argued. “I didn’t stay in the basement, because it’s boring, but I did stay inside the Tower.”  
“Then what are you doing out here?” he demanded.  
“She was thrown out of the window by one of those creatures,” Steve explained.  
“What?!”  
“Dad, I’m fine,” you assured him.  
“I’m taking you back inside,” your dad stated. “And you’re staying on the lower levels.”  
You sighed but nodded as he wrapped his arm around your waist and lifted you into the air. Once landing you on the floor inside the broken wall, he lifted his mask in order to lean forward and kiss your forehead. He watched you head to the elevator before he returned to the fight.

Several hours later, the fight was won. All of Loki’s creatures were dead and the portal to summon more had been closed. Thor had taken Loki back to Asgard and your dad was throwing a party in order to celebrate their victory.  
It was during this party that you tried to find the opportunity to thank Steve for saving your life. If he hadn’t caught you, you’d have slammed into the edge of that building and been splattered all over the brick.  
You shuddered at the image, continuing to weave in-between the party-goers in an attempt to find the Captain.  
You had decided to dress for the occasion, deciding that you were a Stark and deserved to party as much as your father did. You were currently wearing a (f/c) strapless dress that cinched up around your chest to accent it and lightly hugged your curves all the way to your knees. It wasn’t too tight to walk properly in, but tight enough to compliment your body.  
You found the Captain sitting at the bar, sipping a soda. You hopped up onto the stool beside him and smiled, waiting for him to greet you.  
“Hello, (y/n),” he smiled.  
“I wanted to thank you,” you stated, ordering an iced tea.  
“For?” Steve inquired.  
“Saving me, duh,” you giggled. “I would have smashed into that building if you hadn’t caught me.”  
“Couldn’t let that happen, ma’am,” he smiled.  
“I really appreciate it. You saved my life.”  
He nodded and the two of you sat in silence – well, silence for you two. The rest of the room was the polar opposite of silent – for a few moments.  
“So, Steve… I was actually wondering… Now that the world’s been saved and you have some free time, maybe we could-”  
“Hold on, (y/n),” he cut you off. You looked up at him with disappointment clear in your eyes. Were you really about to be so obviously rejected by Captain America?  
“You’re a very attractive woman, and I really care about you, but you’re Stark’s daughter and I’m old enough to be your grandfather,” he reasoned.  
You nodded slowly, looking at your lap. “Yeah, I get that…”  
“It just wouldn’t be appropriate for me to be romantically involved with you,” he added.  
“Sorry to bother you,” you sighed, walking away.

You spent the next few days in your room, trying to erase your crush on Steve. Nothing worked. Those feelings would linger in your heart and head for as long as they pleased, and nothing you said or did to yourself would stop them.  
You decided to stop sulking and shuffle down to the main kitchen to fix yourself some breakfast. While popping some toaster waffles into the toaster, you heard footsteps approaching. Turning, you saw none other than Steve. Suppressing a sigh, you turned back to the toaster without even offering him a “good morning.”  
“I see you didn’t have anything to do this morning,” Steve said awkwardly. Your father had gone with Bruce to his lab to work on science projects, Thor was back in Asgard, Clint was on assignment, and Natasha was running errands. It was just Steve and you in the Tower.  
“I see you didn’t either,” you mumbled back, stuffing a waffle into your mouth.  
“Can we talk?” he inquired softly. You risked a glance at him to find his eyes full of the same hurt that yours held when he rejected you. With a sigh you nod and take a seat across the table from him.  
“I was wrong,” Steve began.  
You raised an inquisitive brow, urging him to continue.  
“I thought that telling you we couldn’t be together would be enough to convince myself to move on. I thought that I could forget that I fell in love with such a young woman, and the granddaughter of a close friend,” he explained, grimacing at his choice of description. “But I can’t. I’m in love with you, (y/n), even if we have seventy years between us.”  
“If you think about it…” you began, “It’s kinda like you were in suspended animation for seventy years. You’re still technically twenty-five. That’s not too much older than me. It’s like you travelled through time. That doesn’t make you old, it just makes you special.”  
He chuckled softly at your logic. “We can try and look at it like that. I don’t think your father will approve though.”  
“I don’t care if my dad approves,” you reply honestly. “I’ve had a crush on you for a long time and instead of fading, it’s growing. Dad will eventually come around… If there’s something to come around to, that is.”  
He reached across the table, taking your hand in his. “(y/n) Stark, would you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?”  
You smiled and squeezed his hand. “Steve Rogers, the honor is mine.”  
You both leaned across the table to close the gap. His hand reached up to cup your cheek, pulling you closer.  
Your father chose that moment to walk into the room.  
“Capsicle, what the hell are you doing with my daughter?!”


	6. Captain Ameowica

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve gets turned into a cat. Guess who has to take care of him?

**Captain Ameowica**  
Request for _Evil Agent Draco_

 

You walked into the main kitchen of Stark Tower to find a yellow-blonde cat atop the counter. You blinked a few times to ensure that the cat was indeed real and not a figment of your imagination caused by your limited hours of sleep.  
The blonde cat remained on the counter, looking up at you with wide blue eyes as though expecting something from you. You reached out to scratch between its ears, smiling fondly. You loved cats, and you always pictured Tony as a cat person. He refused to get a pet, however, arguing that they were too much work and he had too many other important projects to work on.  
You set about fetching a frying pan from beneath the stove and eggs from within the fridge to fix yourself some breakfast. The cat meowed at you from the counter, drawing your attention.  
“Yes, kitty?” you answered sweetly. Then an idea struck you. “Oh! You must be hungry, huh?”  
The cat meowed again, nodding slightly.  
You thought for a moment. “Well, we don’t have any cat food, seeing as before today we didn’t have a cat, but let’s see…” You began rummaging through the fridge in search of leftovers or lunch meat, whatever you could find that was cat-friendly. You settled for some sliced chicken breast that Natasha had bought for sandwiches, pulling a few pieces out of the package and setting them on the counter for the cat.  
The cat sniffed the offering a few times before licking it, then deciding that he (or she, you hadn’t checked yet) enjoyed the taste and began nibbling away at it. You chuckled to yourself before turning your attention back to the stove to resume your cooking.  
Footsteps were heard entering the kitchen, before they stopped in the doorway. “…There’s a cat on the counter,” a female voice stated.  
“Yep,” you replied, not looking up from the stove.  
“Why is there a cat on the counter?” Natasha inquired, stepping forward to pet its blonde head.  
“No idea,” you answered. “He was in here when I came in.”  
“He’s a cutie,” the redhead mused as the cat began purring under her hand.  
“He is,” you agreed. “I wonder where he came from.”  
“Reindeer Games can answer that,” the familiar voice of Tony Stark himself stated, approaching the girls and the cat.  
“Loki did it?” you questioned.  
Tony nodded, pouring a cup of coffee. “That cat used to be Steve.”  
Natasha’s hand stilled and your eyes widened, glad that you hadn’t tried checking his gender.  
“What happened?” Natasha inquired, looking at the billionaire.  
“It was a mistaken spell,” Loki answered, sauntering in to join the group. He leaned against the wall with a sigh. “My powers have been fluctuating since I was banished to Midgard. Casting spells isn’t quite as easy here as it is on Asgard. I was trying to turn Captain Rogers into a woman.”  
“And why would you try to turn Steve into a girl?” you wondered.  
Loki shrugged. “Tony dared me to. Said it would be a test of my power.”  
Tony chuckled. “Failed that test, did you, Reindeer Games?”  
“I still turned him into something, didn’t I?” the god growled.  
“Change him back, then,” Natasha ordered.  
“Can’t,” Loki replied simply.  
“Why not?” the redhead challenged.  
“Transformation spells can’t be reversed,” the god replied. “They have to run their course.”  
“And how long is the course?” you questioned.  
He shrugged again. “A week or so, perhaps.”  
“Well,” you began, “I hope nothing attacks New York in the next week. Captain America’s out of service.”  
The blonde cat meowed in reply, making you giggle.

“I think someone should be assigned to the cat,” Tony stated that evening while the lot of you were on the entertainment floor preparing for a movie night.  
“Why?” Bruce inquired. “It’s just Steve. He can take care of himself.”  
“This is a big tower,” Tony reasoned. “He could easily get lost, being so small, even if he knows where everything is. Plus, we’re not used to having a cat around – someone might step on him.”  
Steve mewled in fright, jumping up into your lap at the thought. You blushed lightly, having had a crush on the Captain before he had been feline-ified.  
“I think he chose someone to look out for him,” Clint remarked with a chuckle. Your blush deepened as you absent-mindedly scratched between Steve’s ears. Natasha nudged your ribs with her elbow, knowing of your plight.  
“Sure, I can keep an eye on him,” you agreed.

For the next week, you ensured that Steve was fed properly and kept him from being squished by the bustling feet of the team. You were often found carrying him under your arm or seated somewhere with him curled up on your lap. You tried to treat him as just a cat, rather than the man you had a crush on.  
That was simple enough. You were lying at one end of the plush leather couch in the entertainment room, the blonde furball in your lap and a bowl of popcorn accompanied by a cup of soda on the coffee table beside you. You had popped a movie into the DVD player and grabbed the required remotes before settling down, ready to watch your favorite Disney classic while Steve snoozed on your stomach.  
It was late, and after consuming your soda and popcorn, you passed out on the couch shortly before the movie ended. The cat was still napping on your torso, purring softly as you fell asleep with your paw resting on his back mid-pet.

You awoke sometime the next morning with a significant weight atop your being. Your eyes snapped open, curious as to when the cat had grown so large that it took up the entire couch and weighed so much. You looked down at the cat – woah that was not a cat! That was a very half-naked Steve napping on you, still asleep.  
A blush crept across your cheeks until it consumed your entire face, making you comparable to a tomato. Why was he half-naked??  
In an attempt to ease your embarrassment, you mused that it must have been how Loki’s spell worked – he must have only been wearing pajama pants when he was transformed; therefore, when changing back, he appeared wearing only pajama pants.  
A you lied still in your flustered state, the blonde lying on you awoke. He yawned before shaking his head and looking around, his eyes meeting yours. A similar blush crept across his face as he hastily pushed himself up with his arms, moving until he was on the other end of the couch and not touching you.  
“Sorry, ma’am,” he mumbled. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”  
“It’s, uh.. It’s alright,” you nodded slowly. “You were a cat when you fell asleep.”  
“Oh, right,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Thanks for taking care of me, by the way. It was nice to have someone make sure I didn’t get stepped on.”  
You managed a small giggle. “Yeah, there was no telling what Tony would do with a cat in the Tower.”  
An awkward silence settled over the both of you, resulting in Steve looking off to the side and you fidgeting with your fingernails.  
“Hey, Steve?”  
“Yes, ma’am?”  
“How much control did you have as a cat?” you inquired.  
He paused before answering. “I think I had total control. Why do you ask?”  
“I was just wondering if you stuck close to me intentionally or if it was just a reflex of being a cat,” you mumbled awkwardly.  
He scooted closer to you, close enough that your knees brushed against one another when you sat up straight. “That was intentional.”  
You turned to look up at him, eyebrows rising in surprise. “Really?”  
He smiled and nodded, resting a hand atop your own.  
“Why?” you whispered.  
“Because I’ve always had feelings for you, (y/n),” he whispered back. “I figured being a cat would give me an excuse to stay close to you without being rejected.”  
“You wouldn’t have been rejected anyway…”  
His eyes widened slightly, looking at you. “Really?”  
“Really. I might have used you being a cat to do the same thing.”  
The hand that wasn’t resting on yours reached up to cup your jaw, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. As your eyes slowly closed, relishing the feeling of his skin against yours, he leaned in, pressing your lips together. You responded instantly, your mouth moving against his. Your hands reached up to rest on his chest as his other arm moved to wrap around your waist.  
He pulled away to rest his forehead on yours, smiling softly. “I’m glad Loki turned me into a cat.”  
You bit your lip with a smile. “Me too.”


	7. Firecracker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve can handle your mood swings

**She’s A Barton**  
Request for _Aurora Shannon_

 

One thing that could be said about you was that you were a firecracker. You were very emotional, and each emotion ran a very strong course. At your happiest, you’d bake cookies and hum your favorite song, and at your angriest, you’d scream curses and throw lamps. Your emotions were like a roller coaster.  
Nick Fury had found this rather useful against enemies. You could throw them off the scent with your sunshine-y good moods, lead them to believe you completely useless with your depressed sobbing, or scare the living crap out of the toughest henchmen with your rage.  
Thus, you were recruited. Having no family and no direction in life, you agreed, and began living at Avengers Tower with the crew. You’d all gotten on well enough, and they’d all learned of your roller coaster tendencies the hard way. Not by any fault of theirs or your own – they’d simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and had seen your non-happy phases. They’d all responded differently – Natasha had raised a brow at your body-wracking sobs before simply walking away, Clint barely had time to duck when you hurled a lamp in his direction, Tony had panicked and bolted as tears streamed down your face, Thor had questioned your anger when he heard you swearing at every inanimate object in sight, Bruce had run a comforting hand across your shoulders while you held your head in your hands, and Steve had pulled you into his arms, ignoring your attempts to hit him or pull away.  
You supposed that each of their interactions summed up your relationship with them. You and Natasha, though being the only girls on the team, didn’t do much bonding. Clint feared your outbursts. Tony had no idea how to handle a crying woman, and you consistently turned him down. Thor was ever curious and inquisitive, but not pushy. Bruce was soft and friendly, but not forward. And Steve was your best friend, always there for you even at your worst.  
Once in a while, in your downtime, when there were no missions to run and no city to save from destruction, when you got to sit in your room and having some you-time, you liked to think about the future. Getting married, starting a family, perhaps leaving this chaotic mess you called a job. It wasn’t the ideal job to have when carrying a baby in your belly, now, was it?  
Of course, you kind of had to have a man to start a family. Preferably a man you were in a relationship with. And you’d had your eye on one man in particular.  
Steve Rogers. Your boyfriend of almost one year, and your best friend to boot.  
He was always there when your mood swings took a turn for the worst. He comforted you when something depressed you, and he calmed down your raging anger. He was always there, whether it be with tissues and chocolate or a safe distance and a hug.

It was during one of your swings that your relationship took another step.  
You were in an unidentifiable fit, having spent too much time thinking about your mood swings. You began worrying about your relationships with the team, and whether or not they truly loved you or were just careful to avoid your downward spirals.  
A tear escaped your eye as you sat on your bed, reading a book in an attempt to clear your mind. How could you raise or even start a family with mood swings like this? One mishap and you’d be screaming at your kids. You couldn’t have that. And Steve… Oh, Steve. He was so innocent and sweet, always there to comfort you when you needed it. He’d be a wonderful father, but you couldn’t let him do all the work while you blew a fuse. How could you have a family with him?  
A knock on your door caught your attention, and you rubbed the back of your hand across your eyes to remove any trace of tears. You set your book aside and stood, moving towards the door. You opened it just a crack, poking your head out to see your visitor. It was none other than Steve.  
“What are you doing here?” you inquired with a sniffle.  
“You weren’t answering your phone,” Steve reasoned, brows furrowing together at the sight of your teary cheeks. “What’s wrong?”  
You shook your head. “It’s nothing. Just a swing.”  
He gently pushed the door open, causing you to step aside. “Let me help.”  
You couldn’t say no to him, and you closed the door behind him as he sat on the edge of your bed. You soon joined him, reclaiming your place by your pillows. You crossed your legs to sit more comfortably, looking at your boyfriend.  
“Was there a cause?” he inquired. He knew that different things could set you off; or even nothing at all.  
“Just too much thinking,” you answered softly. You hated when you didn’t have a real reason.  
He scooted closer to you, taking your hands in his. “What about?”  
You shook your head again. “Nothing.”  
He pressed a kiss to your lips, pulling back just a few centimeters. “Please.”  
You sighed. You never could say ‘no’ to him. You looked at your lap, embarrassed. “I was just thinking about my swings and wondering if I’d ever be able to have a family.”  
“Why wouldn’t you be able to have a family?” he questioned, still holding your hands.  
“Because the smallest thing could set me off and I’d start screaming at them,” you replied. “I’d be an awful mother.”  
He kissed you again, resting his forehead on yours. “You’d be a wonderful mother.”  
You opened your mouth to argue, only for him to kiss you silent again.  
“Listen to me. You’d make a wonderful mother, (y/n). Yes, you have mood swings, but you have happy swings too. You’re a wonderful person. Any child you have- no, any child we have will be exceptionally loved. And if you need to take a break and cry or slam the doors, I’ll be there to help you and our kids through it.”  
Your mouth opened slightly as you looked at the sincerity in your boyfriend’s eyes. “Our kids?”  
He smiled and nodded. “Our kids. I look forward to starting a family with you.”  
A tear slipped down your cheek, which he wiped away with his thumb. He pecked your lips again, lingering for a moment. “I love you, (y/n).”  
“I love you too, Steve.”


	8. Soft Kitty, Warm Kitty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get turned into a kitty

**Soft Kitty, Warm Kitty**  
Request for _Duty And Honor Above All_

 

“Meow!”  
Steve looked down from his paperwork to find a small (h/c) cat at his feet, pawing at his pant leg.  
“Hello there, pretty thing,” he cooed, reaching down to scoop said cat into his arms. He scratched the top of its head, earning a meow of approval. You – yes, you. You’re the cat – looked up at him with your big (e/c) eyes, hoping to show him what had happened to you.  
“You’re adorable,” he smiled, scratching beneath your chin. You couldn’t resist the purr that rumbled through your body, closing your eyes as he petted you. You shook your head before looking up at him and meowing in his face.  
“Are you hungry, darling?” he inquired, standing from his chair to carry you to the kitchen. “I’m afraid I don’t have any cat food, given that I don’t usually have a cat, but I’m sure I have something.”  
He set you down on the counter and rummaged through his cupboards, producing a can of tuna. He peeled back the lid and set it on the counter in front of you. You normally resented tuna, as it tasted as awful as it smelled, but your cat senses were taking over and you all but dove into the can, inhaling its contents.  
Steve smiled, running his hand down your back as you ate. “I wonder if Tony knows where you came from.”

Once you’d finished eating, the blond opted for carrying you out to his car and driving you to Stark Tower. Once there, he carried you inside and asked JARVIS where Tony was.  
“The technology lab with Dr. Banner, sir,” the AI replied.  
“Thanks,” Steve nodded, pressing the appropriate elevator button.  
He stepped off, still holding you in his arms, and found Tony and Bruce. “Hey, are either of you missing a cat?”  
Tony snickered while Bruce smiled. “Nope, not ours. Where’d you find her?”  
“She found me,” Steve replied. “I was doing paperwork when she started pawing at my leg. Must have left a window open.”  
“She’s gorgeous,” Tony smirked, reaching out to pet you. You knew he was in on you becoming a cat, so you hissed at his hand and curled further into Steve’s arms. You also knew that Tony intentionally left you with Steve, knowing of your crush on the Captain.  
“I guess she doesn’t like you,” Steve chuckled.  
“She’s a great judge of character,” Bruce noted, earning a glare from the billionaire.  
“Maybe Thor knows where she came from,” Tony offered.  
Steve nodded and headed towards the kitchen, where Thor was most often found.

“Thor?” he called when he entered the room. You had now opted for riding on his shoulder.  
“Captain!” the bigger man called around a mouthful of Poptarts. He smiled as he saw you perched atop Steve’s shoulder. “Who is your friend?”  
He had also been told to keep quiet about your true identity.  
“I don’t know,” Steve admitted, reaching up to scratch your ears. “She just wandered into my apartment. I thought maybe she belonged to one of you guys.”  
“I have never seen her,” Thor lied.  
“That’s what Stark and Banner said, too,” the blond sighed. He’d hate to keep you if you had an owner somewhere else.  
“Perhaps brother Barton knows from where she came,” Thor suggested. Steve nodded and headed to the weapons training room to find Clint.

“Clint!” he called out, standing in the doorway as to not get in the way of the archer’s shooting.  
“What’s up, Cap?” he called back, pausing his training to turn and look at the two of you. He bit back a smirk – the entire Tower was in on the plan, save for Steve.  
“Do you know if this cat has an owner?” Steve inquired.  
Clint snickered. “Not that I know of.”  
Steve sighed in exasperation. “I guess it’s safe to say that she’s a stray, then. Unless she belongs to someone else in New York.”  
“I think it’s safe to say that she doesn’t have an owner,” Clint noted, knowing how angry you must be at the talk of being owned by someone.  
“I just don’t want to keep her if someone’s out there looking for her,” Steve sighed.  
“I think she’d rather stay with you,” Clint offered. You sent him a pointed look, scared that he’d give something away. You hadn’t agreed to this plan – Tony, Bruce, Clint, and Thor had come up with it, and had gotten Loki on board so he’d perform the spell. You didn’t even get a word in.

Steve decided to head back to his apartment, having received virtually no helpful information whatsoever from his teammates. He had no idea how to care for a cat, so he stopped at the store on the way home to buy more cans of tuna and a half gallon of milk.  
Once back in his apartment, he set up a tuna can and a small bowl of milk on the coffee table in the living room. He’d been thinking about you – human you – for a while, wondering where you were right now. He supposed you were at your own apartment, since you usually didn’t stay at the Tower with the others, but you hadn’t answered your phone all day. He only hoped you were alright.  
He scanned his DVD collection, knowing how to operate all the systems thanks to your help. He found a movie you’d talked about. He’d only bought it because you had told him it was your absolute favorite movie. He decided to put it in the player. It would make him think of you, and he loved thinking of you. And perhaps he could learn something about you if he could figure out why it was your favorite.  
You recognized the movie within seconds, meowing in approval and curling up on the couch cushion beside the Captain. Your purr started back up as he ran his hand down your back, smoothing out your fur. You nuzzled into his hand, falling asleep about ten minutes into the movie.

You stretched and yawned as you awoke the next day, feeling a comforting warmth beneath your head. Blinking in confusion, you sat up, noting that you were no longer a feline. You bit your lip in potential embarrassment, turning your head towards the source of warmth. There you found Steve, completely unconscious and upright on the couch. His head hung against the back of the cushion while his hand rested limply against your back. He must have fallen asleep petting you.  
You took a deep breath and decided to take a leap of faith. You scooted closer and pressed a kiss to his cheek, waking him up. He blinked a few times as he awoke, turning to look at you.  
“(y/n)? What are you doing here?”  
“Thanks for taking care of me,” you replied simply.  
He looked around in confusion, seeing the completely empty tuna can and half empty bowl of milk. He watched as you combed your fingers through your (h/c) locks, smoothing out some of the tangles. He mentally face-palmed as he made the connection – you and the cat he had taken care of had the same color hair, and now you were seated in the exact same spot where the cat had fallen asleep.  
“You were the cat?” he questioned.  
You nodded, looking down in embarrassment. “It was a spell.”  
“Loki?”  
You nodded again.  
“Accidental or intentional?”  
“Intentional,” you said. “But not my idea.”  
“Whose idea?”  
“Tony’s, mostly, though Bruce, Clint, Thor, and Loki agreed to it.”  
“What was the idea?” Steve inquired. “Something tells me there was a reason.”  
You paused. “They thought that turning me into a cat and leaving me in your apartment and in your care might make you confess something to me.”  
“What kind of something?”  
You opened your mouth to reply before shaking your head and changing your response. “Nothing. It’s nothing. Thanks again.”  
You stood up to leave, feeling rejected.  
“Wait,” he called. You turned to look up at him.  
“Was this a scheme to try and get us together?” he inquired.  
“It was stupid, I know. And I didn’t have a say in it. They just sneaked up and had Loki cast the spell on me. I know you don’t feel the same so the plan was completely inappropriate-”  
You were cut off by a pair of warm lips pressing against yours. Your eyes widened in surprise as he pulled away.  
“I do feel the same,” he whispered, reaching up to cup your face. He kissed you again, wrapping his other arm around your waist to pull you closer. You rested your hands on his chest, closing your eyes.  
“I’m glad Loki turned you into a cat,” he whispered against your lips.  
“I’m glad that it wore off,” you giggled, kissing him again.


	9. Hell Hath No Fury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony cheats and Steve is comforting. The reader had a name because it was before I decided against names.

**Hell Hath No Fury**  
Request for _Dorky Love_  
 **A/N:** You have a name in this one.

You walked down the dark empty sidewalk, cold wind whipping your hair across your face as you crossed your arms over your chest. You pulled on the edges of your hoodie, cursing yourself for not grabbing a thicker jacket on your way out. You couldn’t really be blamed, though. You hadn’t had much time to leave, and your mind wasn’t particularly focused on dressing for the weather as you stormed out of the apartment you shared with your fiancé.  
Well, ex-fiancé.  
You angrily wiped away the tears leaking from your eyes with the back of your hand. You continued your trek down the road, still uncertain of your destination. You considered seeking refuge at Stark Tower. Sure, your ex-fiancé was the tower’s namesake, but the other Avengers often stayed there too, and, if anything, it’d give you a place to sleep for the night.  
You made your way to the Tower, asking JARVIS to let you in. The AI agreed and opened the elevator, asking where you wanted to go.  
“Is anyone here?” you inquired. You could use some company.  
“Mr. Rogers and Dr. Banner are on the entertainment floor,” JARVIS replied.  
“Take me there,” you requested.  
The elevator stopped on the appropriate floor, opening its doors to let you off. You thanked the AI as you left, making your way to the couch where the two men were seated.  
“Nahvy?” Bruce greeted, confusion crossing his face. Steve turned his head to look at you, equally confused.  
“Hey, guys,” you greeted softly, looking at the floor. You wiped away the last of your tears as you made your way to the reclining armchair.  
“I thought you were with Stark tonight,” Steve stated.  
A scowl crossed your lips. “I don’t plan on being with Stark ever again.”  
“I’ll get you some tea,” Bruce offered, removing himself from the couch and moving into the kitchen.  
“What happened?” Steve inquired, scooting closer to you. “Aren’t you and Stark supposed to marry in a week?”  
“We were,” you replied through gritted teeth as tears threatened to spill over again. “Until I found him with another woman.”  
“No!” Steve cried in disbelief. Tony was many things, but a cheater?  
“Yes,” you growled, staring at your lap. “I went home, to our apartment, and opened the door. No one was in the living room so I figured he was in the bedroom, probably working. I opened the bedroom door and there he was, rolling around with some blonde.”  
Steve rested a hand on your back, sympathy crossing his eyes.  
Bruce returned with your tea and handed it to you before looking to Steve as though expecting an explanation.  
“Stark…” Steve began before stopping. It wasn’t his place to repeat the information.  
“He cheated on me,” you said simply, taking a sip of your tea.  
“He what?!” Bruce exclaimed. Everyone knew Tony liked the ladies, and they were all surprised when Pepper lasted the year that she did. After they broke up, everyone expected Tony to return to his one-night-stands, but he opted for staying single and drinking more. Then they met you, and you and Tony hit it off immediately. His manner completely changed after you two started going out. You were together for three years before he proposed, and that was three months ago. You were just one week away from the big day when it all blew up.  
You couldn’t help but wonder if this wasn’t the first time.  
“I was hoping I could stay here tonight,” you whispered, sipping your tea.  
“Absolutely,” Steve nodded. “There are plenty of spare guest rooms.”

You awoke the next day feeling refreshed after getting a good night’s sleep. You stretched and yawned as you looked around, confusion fogging your mind as you recalled last night’s events and where you were now. You let out a sigh as you sat up, recognizing the guest room and remembering why you were here.  
You slid out of bed and ran your hand across your eyes, removing the last traces of sleep and tears. You didn’t have any spare clothes here, so you figured you’d ask the guys to take you back to your apartment to pack your things.  
You made your way to the kitchen, hoping to get something to eat before returning to your apartment. You found Bruce and Steve already there, talking about something or another over cups of coffee and tea. They greeted you with soft smiles as you came in, pouring yourself a cup of coffee. You joined them at the table, sipping your coffee as you attempted to wake up.  
“How are you feeling?” Steve asked gently.  
“Like everything’s fallen apart,” you stated honestly. “Hey, I have a favor to ask you guys.”  
“Anything,” Bruce offered.  
“Can you take me to my apartment later to get my things? I didn’t bring anything with me and I don’t want to go alone.”  
“Absolutely,” Steve agreed.  
“We can go after breakfast,” Bruce nodded.

Rather than dragging the morning out and stalling your inevitable return, you jumped from your chair and slipped on your shoes as soon as you were done eating. The boys followed suit, grabbing their coats and heading to the elevator. Your apartment was a comfortable walking distance, and you figured that the walk would help clear your head before you got there.  
You arrived all too soon and, taking a deep breath, pulled the key from your pocket and unlocked the door. Tony was passed out on the couch with the blonde from the night before sleeping on his chest. Neither of them appeared to be very well dressed, though a blanket was draped over them, covering the important places.  
You tore your gaze away with a scowl and headed to the bedroom. You pulled your duffle bag from the bottom of the closet and set it on the bed, throwing everything you owned into it. All of your clothes and shoes went into the bag, taking up all of its space. You gathered all of your bedding, toiletries, and knick-knacks, stuffing them into various backpacks that you owned.  
Steve and Bruce helped you haul your things outside, hailing a cab so you wouldn’t have to carry everything back to the Tower. You sat in the back seat between the two, tears streaming down your face as the image of Tony and that girl flashed through your mind.  
You returned to the Tower and the boys helped you carry your bags to your room.  
“You can stay here as long as you need,” Bruce stated.  
“Thanks,” you replied softly. “Can we do something tonight? Watch a movie or something? I need a distraction.”  
“Absolutely,” Steve agreed with a smile. “I’ll make dinner and we’ll watch a movie.”

“Miss Sparks,” JARVIS called, causing you to look up. “Mr. Rogers wishes to inform you that dinner is prepared.”  
“Thank you,” you replied, closing your book. You made your way to the kitchen and smiled as the smell of (f/food) wafted through the air. You sat down at the table beside Bruce and smiled as he poured you a glass of iced tea. Steve came over with the main course and set it in the center of the table.  
Once dinner was over, the three of you moved to the entertainment area, huddling up together on the couch. Bruce put your favorite movie in the DVD player and sat beside you. You subconsciously snuggled into Steve’s side as he wrapped his arm around you in hopes of comforting you.  
Bruce smiled, knowing how much the Captain cared for you. Whether or not the Captain knew it was irrelevant, as long as he was there for you.  
You intently watched the entire movie, ready for another one as you went to the kitchen to fetch a soda. Bruce scanned the movie collection as Steve rattled off a list of your favorite movies. He found one of your top favorites and put it in as you returned with refreshments for the group.  
You returned to your place between the two, still snuggling into Steve’s side. You only made it about halfway through the second movie, falling asleep with your head on the Captain’s chest. Bruce smiled as the movie ended and excused himself, heading for bed.  
Steve looked down at your sleeping form, ignoring the blush crossing his cheeks as he smiled at you. He turned off the TV and tried to sit up so that you could lay down, which resulted in you sliding down, resting your head on his lap. With a stronger blush, he lifted you by your shoulders and tried to slide out from beneath you. You curled slightly, whimpering at the lack of body heat comforting you. After a brief internal debate, he sat back down on the couch, pulling you into his arms as he lied down. Perhaps it was inappropriate, cuddling with you after your horrible break up, but perhaps you needed a cuddle.  
He reached up to the back of the couch and pulled the thin blanket from it, draping it over the both of you before falling asleep himself.

You awoke in the middle of the night, smiling softly as you snuggled into the warmth beside you. Your eyes snapped open in caution – who the hell were you cuddling with?  
You looked up to see the sleeping face of Steve. You let out a soft sigh – at least he wasn’t a stranger. Or Tony.  
You looked around, realizing that you must have fallen asleep during the movie. You slowly laid your head back on his chest, enjoying the feeling of cuddling up to someone.  
He shifted beneath you, his arms tightening around your waist. His head tilted, allowing him to press a kiss to your head. Smiling softly, you looked up at him.  
“Did I wake you?” he whispered.  
You shook your head. “Did I wake you?”  
“Not at all,” he said. “I hope this isn’t weird. You fell asleep on my shoulder and I thought maybe you could use some comforting.”  
You giggled softly. “It’s fine. It’s nice to cuddle with someone. Tony was always too busy.”  
He kissed your forehead. “Tony didn’t deserve you.”  
A surprisingly comfortable silence washed over the two of you as you snuggled on the couch. Steve took a breath before breaking it.  
“I know it’s soon, way too soon, but I just want you to know that I’ve always had feelings for you,” he whispered. “I let it be, because you were with Tony and you seemed so happy together, but I always wanted to be with you.”  
You were quiet for a moment, looking up at him. “I had feelings for you too,” you admitted. “I pushed them aside because I didn’t think you were interested, and then Tony and I got together.”  
“Do you still have those feelings?” he inquired softly.  
“I might.”  
One hand found your cheek and tilted your chin up, his lips melding to yours. His hand gently caressed down your jaw as he pulled away.  
You looked down. “I’m sorry. I do like you but… it’s too soon. I don’t want to be the girl that jumps from guy to guy.”  
He nodded. “I understand. I can wait until you’re ready.”  
“I don’t know when that will be,” you said, looking at him.  
“I’ll wait as long as you need me to,” he promised.  
You stretched up to press your lips to his again, your hand resting on his chest. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close. You pulled apart to bury your face into his neck, cuddling close. He ran a hand through your hair, lulling you to sleep. He followed soon after, his cheek resting on your head.

And that was how Bruce found the two of you the following morning, a knowing smile on his face.


	10. He'll Be Okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve is worried about Bucky and you're there to help him

**He’ll Be Okay**  
Request for _Poppy_  
 **A/N:** So I watched TWS just the other night so I know a little more about Bucky, but I’ve only watched it once and I don’t remember anything about him from the first movie.  
So I’m kinda basing this on a mix of the first battle where Steve finds out that it’s Bucky but Bucky doesn’t recognize him, and the final battle between Bucky and Steve but without Steve falling into the water. So Bucky kinda knows him and Steve refuses to fight so they’re both hurt and confused but alive.

You sat on the bench next to a very disheveled Steve, running a hand down his arm in an attempt to comfort him. He clearly hadn’t slept since he’d brought Bucky in for healing.  
“He’ll be fine,” you assured him as he rested his head in his palms. He nodded slowly, as if trying to believe you but being unable to. You knew how worried he was for his long-lost friend.

_Steve came rushing in, trailing a bloodied and bruised Bucky behind him. He dragged the unconscious soldier to the infirmary, where the nurses tended to his wounds before contacting you to look him over when he awoke. As SHIELD’s psychiatrist, you were called in whenever a patient underwent a traumatic experience – and being frozen for 70 years after being reconstructed by Hydra and then recruited to work for Hydra certainly counted as a traumatic experience.  
Steve was still in his uniform, so you presumed there must have been a battle, most likely between him and Bucky. Steve gave you the simplified explanation – he’d been fighting Bucky in disguise when his mask fell off and Steve realized who it was. Bucky hadn’t recognized him and instead continued fighting. Hurt and confused, Steve refused to fight, letting Bucky use him as a human punching bag. After a while, Bucky began regaining bits and pieces of his memory, and Steve learned what had happened to him.  
“So he survived all those years ago?” you whispered in surprise. Steve recalled memories of Bucky every now and then, sometimes with happy excitement, other times with hurt and sadness. They were happy stories, mostly, but you knew how much Steve missed his supposedly fallen friend.  
Steve nodded slowly, just as surprised as you were, though there were many more emotions rumbling through his body. He took a seat on the bench outside of Bucky’s hospital room, after a lot of pushing and insisting from you. You’d given up on trying to make the super soldier rest while his friend was being tended to, so you opted for letting him sit outside and wait.  
Bucky awoke shortly after the nurses finished bandaging his wounds, so they called you in to speak with him. You smiled at him as you looked over his chart, taking a seat in the chair beside the bed.  
“Do you know your name?” you asked.  
“James Buchanan Barnes,” he replied gruffly, his voice rough from always wearing a mask.  
“And your nickname?”  
“Bucky.”  
“Do you have a best friend?”  
He paused. “Steve Rogers. The man who saved me.”  
You smiled softly. Steve would be so thrilled. “Do you know what happened to you?”  
He groaned. “It’s blurry.”  
“Tell me what you remember. It’s alright if you forget a few things.”  
He nodded. “I thought I was dying. I lost my arm, I lost my team. (1) I didn’t know what to do. Hydra found me, gave me a new arm. I didn’t think I had a choice. Then they wiped my memory so they could use me like an emotionless robot to do their bidding.”  
“And they continuously wiped your mind whenever a memory of your old life emerged?” you concluded, based on the information you’d been given.  
He nodded.  
“Do you know SHIELD?” you asked.  
“I was trained to believe that SHIELD was the enemy,” he sighed. “I was always sent to destroy their agents.”  
“You’re at SHIELD Headquarters now,” you said softly. “You’re in their infirmary. We’re the good guys, even if we do some bad things. You’re safe here. Hydra can’t get to you.”  
He nodded again.  
“Get some rest. I’ll be by to check on you later.” With that, you left, heading outside to check on Steve._

“I talked to him,” you told the super soldier. He turned his head slightly, still resting on his hands.  
“And?” he asked softly.  
“He remembers you,” you smiled. “He called you his best friend, and the one that saved his life.”  
He smiled softly. “Anything else?”  
“He knows what happened to him, how Hydra used him,” you replied, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “He understands that we’re the good guys now.”  
He nodded slowly, leaning against you. He let out a sigh, exhaustion appearing all over his body, wearing him down.  
“Go get some rest,” you whispered. “He’ll be here when you wake up.”  
“Will you?” he asked softly, almost inaudibly. You weren’t sure if you heard him correctly.  
“Get some rest,” you repeated, kissing his forehead and standing up, pulling him up with you.  
You swore you saw sadness in his eyes, but you mused that it could just be the exhaustion. He nodded and turned around, heading to his room.

The next day, you got dressed and headed straight for Bucky’s room to see if there had been any changes. With patients as high-maintenance as he was, you had to check on him every day, usually multiple times a day.  
The sight that greeted you as you peered through the window of his room made your heart swell and a smile claim your lips. Steve was seated in the chair you had used when asking the soldier questions, and Bucky was awake and chatting with the other super soldier. Steve was smiling, meaning that his friend still remembered his identity and what had happened to the both of them.  
You knocked on the slightly open door, not wanting to startle the pair. Steve turned to face you, the bright smile still plastered on his face. A soft smile also painted Bucky’s face, leading you to believe that their conversation had been pleasant.  
“Hello boys,” you greeted cheerfully. “I’m just here to check Bucky’s progress.”  
“I remember more,” he informed you, his voice no longer raspy.  
“Oh?”  
He nodded. “I remember more of my life before Hydra found me.”  
“That’s very good news,” you smiled.  
The regular nurse then knocked at the door, coming in to check his vitals and ensure that he was healing properly. You motioned for Steve to follow out into the hall to give the two some privacy.  
“I told you he’d be okay,” you smiled. A startled gasp escaped your lips as he pulled you into a hug, burying his face in your neck. You wrapped your arms around his neck with a soft smile.  
“Thank you, for everything,” he whispered.  
“You did most of it,” you noted. “You saved him, you brought him to us, and you came to check on him.”  
“You talked to him and told him what happened,” he argued. “You helped him remember.”  
“You helped him remember,” you countered. “You told him who he was and who you were and that sparked his memory.”  
He gave you a hopeful smile, glad that he helped. You then noticed that his arms were still around your waist and yours around his neck.  
He leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. Your eyes fluttered closed – you couldn’t deny that you’d been dreaming about this moment.  
He pulled away and rested his forehead on yours, still smiling at you. “Thank you again.”  
“Anytime,” you replied, pulling him closer and pressing your lips to his.

 

(1) As I said, I don’t remember anything from Captain America 1, so I’m not sure what happened to him until Hydra got him. I just know what the flashbacks said in TWS.


	11. She's a Man, Baby, a Man!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get turned into a guy.

**She’s a Man, Baby, a Man!**  
Request for _THEHERO_  
 **A/N:** So as I’m sure you’ve noticed, I use a lot of song titles and lyrics and other references in my titles. Extra points if you recognize them.  
(Male/n) is just a guy name you like. You can choose.

You stretched your aching muscles and let out a jaw-popping yawn as you awoke. Your body was still sore from your last mission. It had been a simple information retrieval, but things hadn’t gone as planned and you’d ended up tied to a pole. Your arms had been twisted uncomfortably, the round pole had pressed harshly against your spine, and the concrete floor beneath you wasn’t the most comfortable surface to sit on.  
You sat up, wincing at the pain that stabbed your back and legs. Swinging said legs over the edge of the bed, you stood, and a strange feeling rushed over you. You felt taller, bulkier, stronger. You looked down at yourself and nearly screamed. Your lady parts were gone, revealing a flat but toned chest and there was a distinct addition between your legs. You stretched your arms out before you, noting the thick muscles. Your legs were much the same, thick and toned.  
You rushed into the bathroom attached to your bedroom, gasping and gaping at your reflection. A very masculine face stared back at you. Your hair and eyes were the same color, but your hair was much shorter, similar to Clint’s. Your body was thicker all around, your features a bit sharper. You almost fainted as you made your way back to your room.  
“JARVIS?” you called to the ceiling.  
“Yes, Miss (y/n)?” the AI replied.  
“Did something happen to me last night?”  
“Not that I know of, ma’am.”  
You sighed. Nobody broke into your room while you slept, which was a relief, but it took out a few possible explanations.  
“Is anyone else awake?”  
“Mr. Stark, Mr. Barton, and Mr. Rogers are all in the kitchen,” JARVIS replied.  
“Thanks,” you groaned. You really didn’t want anyone seeing you this way until you at least had some idea of how it happened. Though you mused that one of those three might be able to help.  
You slowly crept to the kitchen, embarrassed by your predicament. Tony came into your vision first, pouring himself a cup of coffee. You slid into the room, grateful that Clint and Steve’s backs were turned to you.  
“Hey, who are you?” Tony asked as he turned to see you. A blush burned your cheeks as the other two turned to look.  
“Did (y/n) get lucky last night?” Clint smirked.  
You thought for a moment. It would be much less humiliating if they didn’t know it was you, at least until you could fix it. “Uh, yeah,” you replied. “She had to run out somewhere but she said I could make myself at home.”  
“What’s your name?” Steve growled out. Clint raised a brow at him and you tried to hide your own confusion. Why would Steve be upset that you brought a guy home?  
“(male/n),” you replied.  
“How’d you meet (y/n)?” Tony asked, offering you a cup of coffee.  
You took it with an appreciative nod. “At a coffee shop. Turns out we both love the same place.”  
“So you just chatted her up?” Clint summarized.  
You nodded again. “We were both alone so I asked if I could sit with her.”  
“Maybe it’s a (h/c) thing. You both have the exact same color,” Tony noted with a smirk.  
“Pretty funny coincidence, huh?” you smiled, hoping you could keep up the charade.  
With an inaudible grumble, Steve stood and angrily set his coffee cup in the sink before leaving the room. You watched him go, still confused as to why he would be angry.  
Clint and Tony shared knowing smirks, egging your confusion on.

An hour or so later, you found Tony in his lab, tweaking his latest Iron Man suit. You knocked on the doorframe, catching the billionaire’s attention.  
“Hey, (male/n),” he greeted. “(y/n) isn’t back yet?”  
“Nope,” you replied, popping the ‘p.’ “I actually have to talk to you about that.”  
“What about it?” he inquired, standing up.  
“Are we alone?” you asked, stepping further into the room.  
“Yeah,” he asked with a raised brow. “Why?”  
“Because I’m (y/n),” you admitted softly.  
He let out a laugh, pouring himself a drink. “That’s a good one, (male/n).”  
“I’m serious, Tony,” you replied. You certainly had your own tone. “Same hair, same eyes. Don’t you see it? I got turned into a dude!”  
He looked you up and down, finally noting the similarities between this you and the real you. That would explain why you were familiar that morning.  
“Alright, I’ll bite,” he nodded. “What happened?”  
“No idea,” you sighed, sitting down and resting your head in your hands. “I just woke up like this.”  
“Could it have been Loki?” he inquired.  
“Maybe,” you replied. “But I thought his powers were limited while he was under punishment?”  
“They are,” he nodded, sipping his drink. “He can still do basic spells and stuff, according to Thor. He just can’t teleport or do anything big.”  
“So it could have been him?”  
“Could have been. We can ask Thor.”  
“I really don’t want anyone else to know,” you admitted. “This is humiliating.”  
“I can interrogate him for you,” he offered. “If he did it, he already knows.”  
“That might help,” you nodded.  
“Are you gonna pretend you’re (male/n) until we figure it out?”  
“Yep.”  
“Good luck.”

That night, the guys decided to have a movie night, complete with junk food and sodas. Tony, of course, opted for alcohol, but popcorn and chips were still spread around the room, depending on everyone’s respective tastes.  
You were seated on the couch between Clint and Tony. Steve was seated on the other side of Clint, and Bruce and Thor had taken the recliners. The girls were having a Girls Night Out, leaving the Tower to the rest of you.  
The Mortal Instruments: City of Bones was almost over when you looked around and noted that everyone but Steve, Tony, and you had fallen asleep. Tony elbowed your ribs, catching your attention and earning himself a glare. He jerked his head in Steve’s direction, telling you to look over. You obeyed and saw Steve quickly look back at the movie.  
“I’m gonna go to my room,” he announced, standing and leaving as quietly as he could. Steve watched him go before looking at you. With a sigh and crossed arms, he moved to take Tony’s now vacant seat beside you.  
“Hey,” you greeted awkwardly.  
“Tell me something,” he stated simply. You looked at him, urging him to continue.  
“How is it that (y/n) meets you and you instantly hit it off, when she’s known me for years and doesn’t even see how much I care about her?”  
Your brows furrowed together, unsure of what to say. “I don’t know,” you replied lamely.  
“I’m always there for her,” he continued softly. “I’m there when she’s crying over her TV and when she gets pissed at Tony. I’m there to make her laugh and take her out to cheer her up. I devote all of my time to her happiness and wellbeing just because I love her, and yet she goes out and finds you instead. What am I doing wrong?”  
“I don’t know,” you repeated softly. “Uh… if it makes you feel better, we’re not together, or anything. We met at the coffee shop, I was sad about this guy I didn’t think I had a chance with, and she tried to cheer me up with coffee.”  
“’This guy’?” he repeated. “So you’re not interested in (y/n)?”  
“Not the way you are,” you said, shaking your head.  
“Do you think I have a chance?” he asked softly. His innocence was shining through, showing the sweet and sensitive man that you’d always loved.  
“She thinks about you all the time,” you told him. “She’s completely infatuated with you.”  
“Really?” he asked with a small smile.  
“She told me so,” you nodded.  
He sat back with a smile as the movie ended. “I’m gonna go to bed.” He stood and began walking out of the room, before he turned to look at you over his shoulder. “Thanks.”

A few days later, the spell (or whatever had affected you) wore off, returning you to your natural, female self. You sighed in relief as you dressed and headed to the kitchen for coffee and toast. Steve was the only other one awake, seated at the dining room table with coffee and the morning paper.  
You took a seat beside him with your breakfast, smiling at the soldier. He returned the smile before it faltered as though a thought occurred to him.  
“Hey, (y/n?”  
“Yeah, Steve?”  
He set down his paper and turned his chair so that he was facing you. You looked up at him, playing dumb.  
“Can we talk?”  
“Of course. What about?”  
His hand hesitantly reached up to cup your face, his thumb rubbing circles over your cheek. You subconsciously leaned into his touch, closing your eyes.  
“I’m in love with you,” he whispered bluntly. Your eyes opened, (e/c) meeting bright blue.  
“Really?” you replied, already knowing the answer.  
“Really,” he nodded, leaning forward until your foreheads were pressing together. His lips pressed against yours, the hand on your cheek holding you close. Your eyes fluttered closed, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you parted for a breath. He kissed you again, a bit harder, as though finding his confidence.  
He pulled away again, smiling softly. “It was you, wasn’t it?”  
“What was me?” you asked with furrowed brows.  
“(male/n),” he replied. “It was you all along.”  
A blush claimed your cheeks as you were caught. “Yeah, it was. I don’t know what happened; I just woke up that way.”  
“And used it to your advantage?” he smirked.  
“I was embarrassed,” you said as your blush deepened. “I didn’t want anyone to know what happened. Are you mad?”  
“Not at all,” he smiled. “It worked out, didn’t it?”  
Your hands found his neck and pulled him close, pressing your simple lips to his. “Definitely.”


	12. Love Me or Leave Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Steve have been off and on. He's tired of it.

**Love Me or Leave Me**  
Request for _the seas daughter_  
 **A/N:** So there’s some light yelling at you involved.  
So this isn’t set during Avengers 2, but I used the party in the beginning to get ideas for this party.

Anyone who knew you knew that you didn’t like being tied down. You were akin to Tony in that regard, though you respected your personal partners and didn’t sleep around quite as much as the billionaire. You weren’t one for one-night-stands; you simply didn’t have very long-lasting relationships. The guys either got bored and left you or worried that you’d leave them and left you, and you either got bored and left them or got offended by something they did and left.  
You weren’t really good with relationships. But you were great with parties.

Tony Stark was throwing another party in the Tower, inviting all of the Avengers, SHIELD agents, and all of everyone’s friends. He wanted a full house tonight.  
Music blared through every inch of Stark Tower as bodies mingled together, twisting and grinding against one another. A few attendees sat along the bar, some nursing barely-touched drinks, others downing shot after shot. Bruce was one nursing his first drink, looking out across the room full of people. Steve sat beside him, chatting about something or another. Tony was talking to Clint while Thor was dancing with Jane. You weaved through the crowd, dancing with whoever would take you, until they all left, unable to satisfy you.  
You made your way to the bar with a sigh, ordering a Rum and Coke. You smiled at the boys sitting beside you, raising your glass in a salute. Bruce smiled softly while Steve barely looked at you. You figured you deserved it, though.  
You and Steve had been on-and-off for a year now, and while you enjoyed the freedom of having the super soldier at your beckoned call and disposal whenever you pleased, you knew it killed him whenever you left. He was completely in love with you, and he hated seeing you give yourself over to other guys, especially the sketchy bar patrons that only wanted your lady parts, not your personality.  
“Hey, Steve,” you greeted cheerfully, sipping your drink. He glanced at you and offered you a respectful nod before gluing his eyes to the bar. You sighed softly, looking at Maria who stood on the other side of the bar, mixing drinks. She raised a brow, eyes darting between you and the blond. You nodded in reply, and she nodded in understanding. She knew about your habits and your history with Steve, and while she didn’t understand or agree with your ways, she never judged and she watched out for you like a sister.  
Steve stood, pushing himself away from the bar. He left with a wave to Bruce and Maria, but not so much as a glance to you. He headed over to join Tony and Clint, more listening to their conversation and laughing at their insults than joining in and engaging. He was too emotionally wounded, distracted with thoughts of you, to care how deep the conversation beside him was going.  
“You can’t keep doing this to him,” Maria stated simply, sipping her own drink.  
“I know,” you replied.  
“I don’t want to judge,” she clarified, “but I can see how hurt he is. He really cares about you, (y/n), but he thinks that you don’t care about him.”  
“I do care about him,” you insisted.  
“I know,” she nodded. “I’ve always known that. But he doesn’t. He thinks he’s just… release, in a way. Maybe not sexually, but emotionally; mentally. He thinks he’s just a convenient distraction for you.”  
“I don’t want him to think that…” you whispered, staring down at the bar.  
“Talk to him, then, not me,” she suggested.  
You looked across the room and spotted the blond chatting with the other two. Taking a breath and downing your drink, you stood and made your way to the trio.  
“Hey,” you greeted. Tony and Clint offered sounds of acknowledgement while Steve stared at the coffee table before him. The other two paused and shared a knowing glance before taking their leave, leaving you and Steve alone on the couch.  
“Can we talk?” you requested.  
“I suppose,” he answered softly. He wanted nothing more than to ignore you; to walk away and forget his pain. But that was rude, and he was raised to never be rude to a lady, even one as complicated as you.  
“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I know it seems like I use you, and maybe in a way I am, but I-”  
“But what, (y/n)?” he cut you off, finally facing you. “But you truly care about me? Is that it? Well forgive me if I don’t believe that. When you care about someone, you don’t pick them up and throw them away day after day like an old toy. When you care about someone, you stay with that someone – you don’t go running into the arms of some jerk who just wants to get in your pants.” He stood, angrily glaring at you, as you looked up at him. “I love you, (y/n). I’ve always loved you, and I always will, but I can’t be your play thing any longer. You either decide that you care about me, and be my girl, or you forget we ever had anything together.” (1)  
Tears streamed down your face as you looked up at the soldier. Your lower lip quivered, which usually did him in, but he stood strong. He stomped away, headed to his room, as you hung your head. The tears flowed freely, you not even bothering to stop them. Several party-goers had overheard the conversation and were now staring at you.  
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, though you weren’t sure who you were apologizing to. You ran, flying down the stairs like Quicksilver, running to your room.  
You collapsed onto your bed, arms cushioning your face as you lay on your stomach. Your tears flowed into your arms as your body shook. You felt so bad for Steve, especially because you did love him, and you were just afraid of commitment.

You all but drag yourself out of bed the next morning, shuffling up the stairs and down the hall to the main kitchen. Tony and Bruce are already there, nursing their umpteenth cups of coffee and chatting over breakfast. They offer you respectful nods as you doctor up your own coffee, but no one says a word.  
Steve soon shuffles into the room, limbs stiff and eyelids heavy with leftover sleep. He doesn’t appear to want to be awake, but he makes it through his daily routine nonetheless. You look up at him as he drops some bread into the toaster, and he knows he has your gaze, but he doesn’t turn around. You turn back to your coffee with a sigh. It’s gonna take a lot to make it up to him.  
“Hey, Steve?” you whisper, barely audible.  
He grunts in reply, desperately wanting to ignore you but being too much of a nice guy to do so.  
“Can we talk? After breakfast?” you inquire softly.  
He pauses as the bread pops up. He catches the pieces and sets them on a plate before replying, “I suppose.”  
Tony and Bruce share a look before getting up and leaving, just like the night before. You sit at the table across from Steve, sipping your coffee and staring down at your lap, trying not to rush him. He eats slowly, looking you up and down, taking in your tired form. Your eyes are still slightly red from crying and a severe lack of sleep, and he notices the defeated expression that crosses your face.  
He finishes his toast and sets his plate in the sink before returning to the table and facing you fully. “What do you want to talk about?”  
“I’m sorry,” you whisper brokenly before you can stop yourself. “You’re absolutely right. I’m a horrible person. I used you like a yo-yo, calling you back and letting you go whenever I wanted because I was afraid of committing to you, and I thought it’d be easier than it was.”  
He opens his mouth to argue that you’re not a horrible person, but you speak again before he can.  
“I care about you, Steve,” you continue, still staring at your lap. Tears are threatening to spill over your eyes. “I love you, actually. And I know that I’ve hurt you and that tears me apart. I hate hurting you, but I can’t seem to stop.”  
The tears are flowing freely and your breath catches in your throat. You hiccup a few times during your speech, and he watches you with pure sadness in his eyes, wanting nothing more than to pull you into his arms and kiss you.  
“I understand if you never want to be with me again,” you manage. “I just wanted you to know that I love you, and that I’m sorry.”  
You move to stand, running the back of your hand across your teary eyes. You turn to leave, sauntering out of the room, when a hand catches your wrist. You turn in surprise, finding that the hand belongs to Steve. “What?”  
“I still want to be with you,” he whispers, standing up. His other hand finds yours, holding you gently. “You’re not a horrible person. You’re just a little mixed up. I love you, too, (y/n), and if you’re ready to commit to me, then I want to be with you too.”  
You look up at him through teary eyes, your lower lip quivering as you try not to cry any more. “Really?”  
“Really,” he nods, leaning down to peck your lips. You respond eagerly, removing your hands from his to wrap your arms around his neck. His arms wrapped around your waist, deepening the kiss. He pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against yours.  
“I love you, (y/n),” he whispers.  
“I love you too, Steve,” you whisper back, a small smile claiming your lips. He pulls you into a hug, tightly wrapping his arms around your waist and upper back. Your face buries in his neck as you tighten your arms around his neck.  
“You’re mine, now,” he whispers in your ear, earning a soft giggle.  
“All yours.”

 

(1) I made Steve mean. I’m sorry.


	13. Like a Woman Scorned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to "Hell Hath No Fury"

**Like A Woman Scorned**  
Request for _horsequeen1379_

 

Steve had been waiting patiently for you to be ready to fully commit to him. He understood that you’d had a harsh breakup with the billionaire, and he had no opposition to letting you take your time, especially if you still accepted to going on dates with him once in a while.  
He also let you vent as often as you needed to. Part of your process of getting over Tony was remodeling your bedroom, getting rid of all of your Tony reminders. Photos of the two of you together, presents that he gave you, ticket stubs from shows that you went to together. All of it went in a bucket to be burned.  
After finding another piece of your relationship with the playboy, you often broke down in tears, curling into yourself beneath your feather comforter. Steve had found you during many of these times, using whatever bait he could – chocolate, tea, your favorite Disney movie – to coax you out of hiding. He would then sit beside you on the bed as you nibbled your snacks and sang along to your Disney, holding you in his arms and running his fingers through your hair. He’d kiss your cheeks and your nose and your forehead, occasionally pressing a soft peck to your lips if he didn’t feel that he was being too forward.  
You were currently in such a situation. You’d found a photograph of you and Tony, and those hurt the most. Reminders of the happy times you once had only served to make you wonder just how long he had been stepping out on you. For all you knew, he could have been unfaithful from the very beginning.  
You sat beneath your covers, tears streaming down your face as you gazed at the photo in your hands. You had tackled Tony from behind, forcing a piggyback ride out of him. He’d laughed at you as you giggled, proud of your attack. It was during an outing with the team and Clint had taken the photo. Both of you had been smiling brightly, happy enough that nothing bad could ever occur.  
Tossing the photo into the bucket, you sunk beneath your comforter and curled into a ball, not even bothering to halt the flow of tears. A knock came upon your door, which opened after the visitor heard your sniffles. Steve, no doubt.  
The super soldier entered slowly, breathing out a broken “Oh, (y/n),” at the sight of your predicament. He rushed over and knelt by your bed as he always did, gently pulling the covers down so that he could see your face. “What was it? A present?”  
You shook your head. “A ph-photo,” you stuttered out.  
He turned his head to glance at the almost full bucket of souvenirs, spotting the picture of happier times at the top. He let out a soft sigh, saddened that he had to watch you go through this. His heart broke a little more every time he found you crying in your bed.  
“What will it take this time?” he asked with a soft smile. “Godiva chocolate? Peppermint tea? 101 Dalmatians?” (1)  
“Chocolate a-and cu-cuddles,” you stammered, wiping your eyes. He nodded and kissed your forehead, promising to return quickly.  
He held his promise, returning faster than you could sit up. He set the chocolate bar on the nightstand before walking around the bed to slip under the covers behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You grabbed the bar and turned around, curling into his chest. He pressed a kiss to your hair before running his hand down the back of your head. You nibbled the corner of the chocolate bar as he held you close.  
“How much stuff do you have left?” he inquired.  
“N-not m-much,” you replied.  
“Do you want me to help?” he offered. You nodded.  
He curled tighter around you. “Anything to make this easier for you, love.”

Once you’d calmed down, Steve helped you carry your bucket of souvenirs downstairs and outside. Clint had dug you a fire pit for burning your old belongings.  
You pulled up a lawn chair and sat down after helping Steve dump the bucket into the pit. You watched as he struck a match and threw it in, the flame instantly catching on the photos before spreading across the rest of the items. A deep sigh escaped your lips as Steve held your hand and pulled you to your feet. He then took a seat in the chair you’d previously occupied before pulling you down to sit in his lap. You curled into his chest, watching the fire burn brighter.  
“(y/n)? Rogers, what the hell are you doing holding onto my woman?!” a familiar voice cried. You bolted upright and looked around, finding Tony making his way over to you.  
Steve gently pushed you off of his lap before standing and pushing you behind him as though to protect you. “She isn’t your woman anymore, Tony.”  
“Says who?”  
“Says her,” Steve growled. “I know what happened. I know what you did.”  
“Just let me talk to her, Cap,” the billionaire pleaded. You poked your head out from behind Steve, peering at your ex around the soldier’s arm.  
“What do you want, Tony?”  
“To apologize,” he replied. “Cheating on you was the biggest mistake I ever made, babe.”  
“Don’t call me that,” you said sternly. “You lost that right. Just how many times did you cheat on me, huh, Tony? I’ll bet it was more than the one I knew about.”  
He looked to the ground in defeat. You choked back tears – you were right.  
“Just leave her alone, Tony,” Steve sighed. “You’ve done enough damage.”  
You were glad that the fire had burned enough of the pieces to make the lot unrecognizable. You were sure Tony would be furious.  
“I just- I just miss her, Steve,” Tony slurred, tripping over his feet. Great, he was drunk too.  
“I understand,” Steve nodded. “But you need to let her go.”  
The billionaire stumbled away, leaving Steve standing protectively before you and you crying behind him. He turned around and wrapped his arms around you, kissing your head.  
“How are you?”  
“Fine,” you whispered, voice cracking as tears streamed down your cheeks. He pulled you closer, resting his head on yours. You stood there for a moment, wrapped in the warmth of his arms. Your head rested on his chest, breathing in his scent.  
“Hey, Steve,” you whispered, looking up at him.  
“Hm?” he hummed in reply, meeting your eyes.  
“Do you wanna be my boyfriend?” You bit your lip innocently, smiling at the soldier.  
He returned the smile and pecked your lips. “Yes, ma’am.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a real kiss.

 

(1) My go-to Disney movie is always The Lion King xD Had to change it up this time.


	14. I'm So Sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve gets sick

**I’m So Sick**  
Request for _Fireheart_  
 **A/N:** Reader has a name.

 

A violent sneezed escaped the super soldier’s nose, causing a shaky hand to slip out from beneath a mountain of feather comforters in search of the unfortunately empty tissue box that sat on the bedside table. A disappointed groan emanated from beneath the sauna of sweat and body heat upon discovering the lack of tissues at the soldier’s disposal. A raspy voice called your name as loud as it could, breaking off with a coughing fit, pulling the shaky hand back beneath the covers as the rest of the body shook as well.  
You sauntered into the room with a food tray holding a steaming mug of green tea and an equally steamy bowl of Lipton’s Chicken Noodle Soup. You couldn’t cook worth a lick, but you could mix a packet with water and stick it in the microwave without many problems.  
Smiling softly at the pathetic lump of blanket on the bed, you set the tray on the bedside table, removing the empty tissue box. A brand new box sat on the food tray, ready to be emptied. You then pulled the bottles of Dayquil and Excedrin from your jean pockets, opening the latter to pour a couple of pills into your hand. Your other hand reached out to pry the blankets away from a blond bedhead, revealing puffy red eyes and an equally red nose. The shaky hand from earlier returned, clutching the unopened Kleenex box with as much strength as the soldier could muster, which was surprisingly little. You chuckled softly as you helped him peel back the opening to expose the tissues within. He grabbed a handful and pulled them back under the blanket with him, loudly blowing his nose into the poor, unsuspecting papers.  
“You need to keep the blanket off your head,” you said softly, handing him the Excedrin. “If you lock yourself under there with all that heat and all those germs, you’ll continue being sick. You need air.”  
He whimpered softly at the light streaming in from the cracked window curtains, wanting nothing more than to sink back into his dark sauna. You nodded in understanding before turning towards the window and drawing the curtains completely. You weren’t sure total darkness was very good for your sick boyfriend either, but you figured keeping him happy was your top priority, right next to helping him get better.  
You opened the bottle of Dayquil and, ignoring the very childish glare that icy blue eyes were sending the bottle, poured some of the liquid into the plastic cup provided. You offered it to the soldier who groaned before downing it in one gulp. You then handed him the mug of tea so he could take his headache pills, letting out a soft sigh as his head thudded back against the pillows.  
“Are you hungry yet?” you inquired softly, reaching out to capture his hand in yours. Your thumb rubbed soft circles on the back of his hand.  
“A little,” his croaky voice replied, coughing slightly. You pressed a kiss to his forehead before helping him scoot over in his bed, giving you room to sit beside him.  
“Can you feed yourself?” you asked, holding the bowl of soup in your hands. He nodded slightly and rested his forearms on the bed to help hoist himself up into a sitting position. You held the bowl up to his chest, waiting for him to take the spoon and attempt to eat. You smiled softly as he continued to eat. You could tell he was feeling terribly, but at least he could hold some food down.  
Oops. Spoke too soon.  
After just a few bites, Steve stumbled out of bed, his legs tangled in the sheets nearly causing him to fall. He caught himself before he hit the ground, shuffling around the bed to the attached bathroom. He sank to his knees before the porcelain bowl as this morning’s soup and any other contents that still remained in his stomach were regurgitated. You winced at the sounds emanating from the bathroom, wishing that your love was feeling better.  
He returned a few minutes later, having gargled mouthwash to rid himself of the taste. He slid back into bed, bundling up beneath the covers and settling back into the warmth he had created. He propped himself up against a mound of pillows, reaching out for the mug of tea on the bedside table. He brought it to his lips, taking a few slow sips (and burning his tongue on the first one) before setting it down.  
“Do you need anything else?” you asked as he closed his eyes. He tiredly nodded, holding his arm out to signal that he needed you. You smiled and slipped out of your jeans and sweater, leaving you in your undies. You slid under the covers beside him, smiling as he pulled you into his arms. You rested your head against is flaming chest (damn his high metabolism. He was like an oven), your hand resting on his abdomen where your fingers traced random patterns. You looked up at him, pressing a kiss to his jaw. He smiled and nuzzled your head with his, the arm you were resting on wrapping around your shoulders and holding you close.  
“I love you, Brook,” he whispered, sleep claiming his exhausted mind. “And thank you.”  
“Anything for you, Steve,” you whispered with a smile, nuzzling his jaw with your head. “I love you too.”


	15. Baby, You're a Firework

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve has a flashy surprise for you

**Baby, You’re a Firework**  
Request for _VampAbz_  
 **A/N:** So I’ve had this idea in my head for a while, I thought it’d be a super cute couple story but I didn’t have a couple to write it with til now.

A sigh of loneliness mingled with disappointment escaped your lips as you sat on the couch. Steve was out with the guys today, the latter group having decided that they were going to take him out on the town. He had intended to spend the day with you, since it was your three year anniversary, and you wanted nothing more than to tell Tony to screw off so you could have a day with your man. But you wanted him to have fun and you knew that, though he was usually reluctant at first, he enjoyed hanging out with the team. So you faked a smile and told him to go and have fun, and that you two would celebrate tonight.  
So here you were, sitting on the couch having finished every available task that could possibly kill time and take your mind off of your not-here boyfriend. You’d deep cleaned the entire apartment, including every single dish, leaving your kitchen with a lemony fresh sparkle. You’d even vacuumed, which you avoided like the plague due to the noise. The wooden kitchen table shined beautifully and every book and magazine in the living room was perfectly organized. You’d washed, dried, folded, and put away all the laundry, leaving you with nothing else to do.  
You considered cooking dinner, but you had planned on going out for your anniversary. You wondered if he’d still feel like going out after being gone all day with the guys, but you figured that you could drive and do all the work tonight.  
Another sigh fled from your lungs as you stood up and pressed a button on the remote, shutting off the TV. You shuffled to your room as the time neared five-thirty in the evening. You wore a loose tank top and yoga pants, and your (h/l) (h/c) hair was tied in a messy bun. Not the sexiest attire for your anniversary, but if you were spending the day lounging around the apartment by yourself, why not?  
The sudden ringing of your cell phone surprised you. After a moment of searching thanks to your brilliant plan of not keeping track of your phone for an entire day, you found it buried under your blankets and tapped the screen. “Hello?”  
“Hey love,” Steve’s soft voice replied.  
You smiled softly. “Hey you. Are you having fun?”  
“Get dressed,” he instructed gently. “Wear something fancy. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”  
With that he hung up, leaving you confused and slightly concerned. Shrugging, you tossed your phone back onto your bed and dug through your closet. Fancy, huh? You smiled softly. Steve must have plans for your anniversary after all.  
You select a simple (f/c) knee-length dress with fabric straps and a flowy skirt. The bust is tight and form-fitting and lined with rhinestones. You opt for simple high-heeled sandals as you head for the bathroom to do your hair. Pulling the tie out you shake your head, letting your locks loose. You curled a few sections, letting them frame your face, before applying some mascara and lip gloss. You weren’t sure what Steve had planned but you liked dressing up.  
The door to your apartment opened as you finished getting ready, revealing a well-dressed Steve. He wore a royal blue suit over a white dress shirt accompanied by a black tie. You smiled at him as you fetched your jacket from the coat rack beside the door.  
“Ready, beautiful?” Steve asked, holding out his arm for you to take. You linked your arm around his with a smile and a nod. He led you outside where a sleek black limo was waiting for you two.  
“You hired a limo?” you asked in surprise as Steve opened the door.  
“With Tony’s help,” Steve admitted, sliding in beside you. You snuggled into his side with a contented smile. You didn’t know what he had planned for you but you were already excited.  
The limo pulled up in front of one of the fanciest restaurants in the city. Steve opened the door and led you onto the sidewalk, smiling as he walked you inside. He gave the hostess his name and she smiled with a nod, grabbing two menus before leading you onto the balcony. There sat a single table, away from the rest of the restaurant. It was a warm summer night, perfect for dining outside. You smiled as Steve pulled out your chair for you to sit before taking his own seat. You ordered your drinks before the hostess left to fetch your waiter. Steve’s hand rested on the table, waiting for yours to join him. You set your hand in his, smiling as he interlocked your fingers. The waiter came by to take your orders and deliver your drinks. You kept your hand in Steve’s as you sipped your champagne – the blond had insisted on it due to the celebration.  
You spent the evening smiling and talking. It was a rare moment of pure happiness for the both of you. You knew that everyone in the restaurant knew who he was, but they kept their inner fangirls and fanboys inside themselves and let you two have your night. Even the rest of the Avengers had left you two alone – not a single phone call or text message since you left your apartment. It was truly appreciated by the both of you. You never got this much privacy, especially being friends with Tony Stark.  
As you finished your meal and waited for dessert, Steve stood from his chair, earning a confused expression from you. He kept your hand in his, pulling you up with him. You followed his lead as he led you to the railing of the balcony where you had an excellent view of the Hudson River. (1) Your mouth opened in awe as you leaned against the railing. Steve stood behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder. He kissed your cheek as you looked out at the river. He knew you loved the river, how it calmed you down and made you happy.  
You leaned back against him, turning your head to kiss his cheek. He leaned forward and met your lips, lingering for a moment before nodding towards the river. You heard the familiar squeal of fireworks starting up and watched them launch into the air. You tilted your head in confusion. Independence Day was a month ago – who would be setting off fireworks now? (2)  
You were just about to ask Steve when the firework exploded into your favorite colors, spelling out your name. What? Had Steve planned this? You turned your head to face him and ask, but he simply smiled and continued watching the show. You watched as more fireworks sot into the sky, forming one word after another.  
(Y/n)  
Will  
You  
Marry  
Me?  
You gasped as they finished, hearing the cheers and ‘aww’s from random passersby below. You turned around in Steve’s arms to find him kneeling before you, a small velvet box in his hand. He opened the box to reveal a simple diamond ring. He knew you weren’t impressed by large, obnoxious jewels, and he was old-fashioned, so a small diamond sitting upon a silver band was perfect.  
He looked up at you with a soft smile, waiting for your answer. Your hands covered your mouth to hold back a squeal as you nodded vigorously. He slipped the ring onto your finger, holding your hand as he stood. Your free hand reached up to cup the back of his head, pulling him down to press your lips to his. His arms wrapped around your waist, tilting his head to deepen the kiss.  
Clapping and cheering caused you to pull away in confusion, looking behind Steve to find the entire team standing in the doorway of the balcony. Warm, supportive smiles lit up their faces as they applauded Steve’s proposal.  
“I think it’s time to celebrate,” Tony smirked.  
“You always think it’s time to celebrate,” you giggled.  
He ordered another bottle of champagne as the team took turns hugging you and Steve. You sipped your champagne before turning back to Steve, capturing his lips again.

 

(1) I know nothing about New York and it’s waterways so I looked it up and the Hudson River looked the best and had a lot of city around it.  
(2) I know fireworks are illegal in a lot of states when it’s not New Year’s or Independence Day but I dunno which states so for the sake of my story they’re legal.


	16. Happy Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You spend your birthday in a hospital bed

**Happy Birthday**

 

You’d always loved your birthday, having grown up with Tony and all your parents’ money and extravagant birthday parties. Plus, being Tony’s sister, you’d inherited his love of being the center of attention.  
The team had come to learn of the similarities between you and your brother. You both had a love of coffee and attention, and you both had a confidence about yourselves that comforted others and irritated them at the same time.  
Over time, you’d grown romantic feelings for a certain star-spangled blond, but you knew it was pointless. Your father had been his best friend – it’d be weird for him to date you. You didn’t have a chance.  
Still, butterflies erupted in your belly and your body tingled all the way to your fingertips whenever he was around, and you couldn’t turn that off.

Being stuck in a hospital bed was not how you’d intended to spend your birthday. Somewhere around nine o’clock P.M. the night before, a sharp pain had grown in your lower right abdomen and you couldn’t keep anything in your stomach. Everything you tried to eat ended up regurgitated and a fever had broken out along your body. Worried, Tony had brought Bruce in to check on you, and he concluded that you were in need of an appendectomy. He and Tony rushed you to the hospital, staying until the surgery was over at about midnight. You agreed to spend the night there, being fresh out of surgery and too tired to go anywhere.  
You awoke the next morning initially excited, but it soon faded to disappointment when you realized that your special day would be spent in a pale white room that smelled like sterilization. Tony had made sure you had your cell phone before he and Bruce headed back to the Tower.  
After turning on the TV and flipping through the channels to find a tolerable show, you picked up your phone to see that you had messages from Tony, Steve, and Bruce.  
_From: Tony  
Sis, you okay??_

_From: Tony  
Sis answer me_

_From: Tony  
SIS_

_From: Bruce  
How are you feeling?_

_From: Steve  
Aww (y/n) you’re in the hospital? Do you need anything??_

Chuckling softly, you replied to the texts.  
_To: Tony  
Bro I’m fine. Calm down_

_To: Bruce  
I’m alright, just bored._

_To: Steve  
I’d love a burger and fries. Milkshake too? Thanks Steve._

You were somewhat surprised and entirely touched that the team had come in to visit you. Steve handed you a brown paper bag and a cup which, upon further inspection on your part, contained your favorite burger and French fries, plus your favorite flavor shake. You grinned up at the blond, thanking him again before sinking your teeth into the sandwich.  
“How are you doing?” Natasha asked, stealing one of the chairs in the room.  
“Not bad for someone with stitches on her tummy,” you replied around a mouthful of food.  
“Are you up for some company?” Bruce asked.  
“I’d love some company,” you replied. “I’m dying of boredom in here.”  
“Come on in, guys,” Bruce called. You turned to the doorway and your smile grew as Tony, Thor, and Clint entered, each carrying flowers, balloons, and gift bags.  
“Aww, you guys,” you smiled. They each returned a grin and set the objects down. The flowers were placed on the table beside your bed, the balloons were tied to the foot of your bed, and the gift bags were handed to you one by one.  
“We had to put multiple gifts in one bag,” Steve explained as you dug through the first one. “It made them easier to carry.”  
The first gift your hand came in contact with was warm and buzzing, immediately catching your attention. Closing your fingers around it, you pulled it out of the bag. It was heart-shaped and glowing, and appeared to be made out of the same materials as Tony’s arc reactor.  
“It’s a night light,” Tony explained. “I know you’re a big girl and all but I also know you have nightmares sometimes, and this will help.”  
You reached out, pulling the billionaire into a hug. “Thanks, big brother.”  
The next gift in the bag was neatly wrapped in silver “Happy Birthday” wrapping paper. Ripping through the paper with no remorse, you revealed a hard-back book about Norse mythology.  
“You once informed me that you wished you knew more stories,” Thor stated. “Dr. Banner assisted me in finding the book and I selected the one with the most accurate stories.”  
“I love it, Thor,” you smiled.  
One more gift remained in the first bag, encased in a heart-shaped box with a white ribbon wrapped around it. You didn’t notice how Steve’s face heated up as his eyes cast towards the floor. Untying the ribbon with one hand, you used the other to lift the lid, revealing a beautiful garnet and diamond necklace in the shape of a star, dangling from silver chain. Your mouth hung open slightly in awe, mesmerized by the jewels. You weren’t so materialistic that glitter was all that mattered, but as a girl, you could still appreciate pretty jewelry.  
Tony nodded to the rest of the team, jerking his head towards the door. You watched in confusion as the entire company disappeared… except for Steve.  
“Steve?” you asked softly, still holding the necklace.  
“Read the card,” he whispered, eyes glued to the floor. You looked down at the box to find a small card with fancy script, reading I’ve always loved you as much more than a friend. ~Steve.  
“Steve?” you whispered, looking up at him.  
“I thought you should know,” he said quickly, turning to leave.  
“Wait,” you called, causing him to turn on his heel. “Come here.”  
He hesitated before nodding his head, walking over to the bed. He took a seat on the edge, looking at you. You could see the fear in his eyes – fear of rejection.  
“I love you too,” you assured him with a small smile. “I didn’t think you felt the same, ‘cause of your history with my family, but I always hoped.”  
He leaned in closer, causing you to do the same. You met in the middle, closing the gap between your lips. Your hands came up to rest on his face and in his hair, his own hands resting on your back. Your lips melded together, fitting perfectly like puzzle pieces.  
You smiled as you pulled away, looking at the blushing Captain.  
“Would you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?” he asked softly.  
You pecked his lips again as your smile grew. “Yes.”  
He grinned, kissing you lovingly, his arms still around you. “Happy birthday, (y/n).”


	17. Put a Ring on It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You lose your most prized possession and Steve fixes it.

**Put a Ring on It**  
Request for _AshtonWinchester_  
 **A/N:** So it’s shorter than some of the others but I think I got the point across.

The blond stalked through the destroyed remains of the city, ensuring that there were no working droids left and that Ultron was good and dead. The rest of the team seemed sufficiently satisfied with the result of the latest battle, but Steve wasn’t so sure. He wanted to know with every fiber in his being that Ultron was done.  
A sparkle on the ground caught his eye as he turned to head back to the Tower. Kneeling down he reached out, plucking the object from the rubble with his fingertips. Upon closer inspection he recognized it to be your ring, or what was left of it. You always smiled fondly whenever anyone asked about it. It had been a gift from your childhood best friend before you’d had to part ways some odd years ago.  
Smiling softly, he tucked the sliver of (f/gem stone) in his pocket and headed back to the Tower. He knew what to do.

Tony grinned knowingly upon hearing Steve’s request. “I knew you had a thing for her!”  
“Shut up, Tony,” Steve blushed in reply. “Will you do it?”  
“Yeah, sure,” the billionaire shrugged, holding out his hand. Steve dug into his pocket and found the shard, passing it to the playboy. “It’s an easy enough process, though I’ve never used it to make jewelry.”  
“The ring was really important to her,” Steve sighed softly. “It’d kill her to never see it again.”  
“And you know she thinks it’s gone forever,” Tony smirked. “So you’re going to give it to her as a present.”  
Steve blushed deeper. “Yes, I am. Now will you stop teasing and get to work?”  
Tony laughed outright and began working on the jewel.

An hour or so later and the project was done. Tony had even found a small box to house the ring until Steve could return it to its rightful owner.  
Steve wandered around the Tower in search of you, soon finding you ripping apart your room. He stood in the doorway, watching as you swore left and right.  
“Dammit!” you cried, digging through the drawer in your nightstand. “Where is it?”  
The covers of your bed were thrown haphazardly around the room, along with the clothes from your dresser. Every drawer and door was open as you searched frantically.  
Steve knocked on the door, causing you to jump and drop the book you’d been holding. “What are you looking for?”  
Tears welled up in your eyes. “My ring! You know, the one that I never take off because my friend gave it to me years ago and it’s all I have left of her?”  
Steve tried to hide his smile. “Can I come in?”  
“Only if you’ll help me look,” you countered.  
“Promise,” he smiled. He stepped inside, watching as you crawled under the bed to find it.  
Crawling back out, you collapsed on top of the bed, tears spilling over. “It’s gone forever. I lost the one piece I had left of (friend/n).”  
“I have something that can help,” Steve offered, sitting beside you.  
“What?” you sniffled.  
“Close your eyes.”  
Confused, you did as told, resting your hands limply in your lap. A small box was placed in your hands, causing your brows to draw together in deeper confusion.  
“Open.”  
You did as told and looked down before looking back up at Steve.  
He smiled softly. “Open it.”  
Looking back down, you moved your thumb to pop open the lid, gasping at what was inside. Fresh tears spilled over your eyes as you looked between the ring and the Captain. “How?”  
“I found pieces of it when I was outside making sure Ultron was dead,” Steve explained. “I took the pieces to Stark and had him reconstruct it.”  
“Steve,” you breathed softly, staring down at the ring. He gently took the box from your grasp, pulling the ring out and taking your hand in his. He slid the ring onto the finger you’d always worn it on, smiling softly. You looked up at him in awe.  
“That is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me,” you whispered.  
Feeling bold, he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. He smiled as he pulled away, still holding your hand. “You deserve it.”  
You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for another kiss.


	18. Wake Me Up Inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get hurt trying to help Steve in a fight

**Wake Me Up Inside**  
Request for _Draco is Darcia_

 

Steve sat beside your bed, hand resting gently on yours, hoping against all hope that your fingers would twitch and intertwine with his or that your eyes would suddenly flutter open.  
No such luck.  
He sat and watched the rise and fall of your chest. You looked so peaceful, finally getting a decent amount of sleep. It would bring a smile to his lips if it weren’t for the hospital bracelet around your wrist and the heart monitor beeping in the corner.  
No one understood. They all told him it wasn’t your fault, that there was nothing he could have done.  
They were wrong. You got hurt because of him.

_The team was fighting a hoard of robotic droids that their most recent enemy had designed. They were troopers for sure. They continued moving, albeit slower, no matter how hard you hit them. The guys tried beheading, amputation, and simply smashing in their faces, but the robots either pulled themselves back together or just continued stumbling around like zombies. They seemed to be un-killable.  
“What do we do now?” you asked, using a broken lead pipe to smash in the face of one of the droids.  
“I have no idea,” Steve replied, using the sharp edge of his shield to sever one’s head. “They keep coming back.”  
“We have to kill the source,” Natasha replied. “Whatever’s giving them power is keeping them alive.”  
“What is the source?” Tony asked, blasting through a droid with his thrusters. It blew a hole in the robot’s chest, but that didn’t even slow it down.  
“Is there a generator or something?” Clint asked, shooting a bot in the eye.  
“Or is their maker their power source?” you wondered.  
“No idea,” Natasha sighed, shooting the next droid.  
“Stark!” Steve called out. “Fly around and see if you can find a generator or something.”  
Tony nodded through his helmet before standing straight, thrusters igniting to send him flying up.  
You and Steve stood side-by-side, slamming your weapons into droid heads. A fuzzy feeling spread through your belly as you stood so close to the Captain, but you had to hold it back for the sake of battle. Thor ran through a field of bots, swinging his hammer wildly. Hulk was smashing droids into walls, breaking them into pieces. It was futile, though, as they simply pulled their limbs back together and ran back into the fight. Natasha and Clint were shooting as many droids as they could; Nat on the ground and Clint on a roof.  
You turned your back to behead a droid when a loud squealing noise caught your attention. You turned back around to find that one of the Big Brother bots had shot a missile in your direction. It was aimed directly at Steve, but he hadn’t noticed. He was busy being bombarded by droids, nearly tackling him to the ground.  
You ran in before thinking, charging at the droids first. You swung your pipe and knocked them away, standing in front of Steve. You turned to ensure that he was okay when the missile hit, catching your lower abdomen. You gasped before crumpling to the ground, clutching the wound. Blood seeped through your uniform like water from a faucet. Steve knelt beside you, screaming your name in an attempt to keep you conscious. He pressed his hand to your side, trying to stop the bleeding.  
Your world went black, the last sound being the Captain’s voice and the last sight being his teary blue eyes._

You’d been unconscious since that fight nearly two weeks ago. Steve rarely left your side. He couldn’t help but wonder what he’d do if you died. There was so much he’d never told you, so much that you needed to know. But what if you never woke up? What would he do then?  
The others had given up on trying to relocate the Captain. They’d bring him food and drinks, keeping him hydrated and fed. They’d also brought in a cot with a blanket and pillow so he could sleep somewhat comfortably, since he refused to go home to sleep. He’d fallen asleep enough times leaning against your bed with his arm acting as a pillow for the team to realize he wasn’t going to leave.

“Steve, come on,” Natasha tried one afternoon. “You gotta get some real sleep. Take a break.”  
“What if she wakes up?” Steve asked. “Or what if she dies while I’m gone?”  
“We’ll be here to watch her,” Nat promised. “We won’t leave her alone.”  
Steve shook his head, watching you pitifully. Nat sighed and left the room.  
The blond watched you, taking in every detail. He noticed how your (h/l) (h/c) locks fanned about your head, framing your face and resting on your pillow. He noticed the rise and fall of your chest, reassuring him that, for now at least, you were alive. He noticed how your lips were parted slightly, releasing soft breaths. He noticed how you would turn your head every now and then, finding a new comfortable position. He even noticed how your face changed depending on the contents of your dreamland – your brows would furrow and your bottom lip would jut out in a pout when a nightmare occurred, and your brows would relax and a small smile would grace your lips when the dream turned happy.  
He soon fell asleep leaning against your bed, his dreams plagued with worry and worst-case scenarios.

A sharp breath entered your lungs as your eyes fluttered open. You blinked a few times against the bright light above you, taking in the white walls and small TV hanging in the corner. Your fingers twitched, eager for movement after weeks of inactivity. You stretched and curled your fingers, rotating your wrists as much as you could while your limbs were still weak from sleep.  
A soft sigh from beside you made you turn your head. A familiar spot of blond hair brought a soft smile to your lips. Steve Rogers, your crush, sat with his arms folded beneath his head, passed out at the edge of your bed. You mumbled softly as you tried to regain strength in your arm, lifting your hand to run your fingers through his hair.  
He stirred and murmured before lifting his head, looking for the hand attached to the fingers on his head. His eyes widened in surprised and he almost jumped out of his chair upon seeing your eyes open. You smiled softly and let out a small giggle at his reaction.  
“You’re awake,” he breathed. His hand reached out to grasp yours, bringing it to his face as though he were afraid you weren’t real. “You’re okay.”  
“I’m fine,” you insisted, voice hoarse from lack of use. “How long have you been here?”  
A blush dusted his cheeks. “Since you got hit.”  
“How long have I been out?”  
“About two weeks.”  
“And you’ve been here all that time?”  
He nodded, looking down, slightly embarrassed.  
“That’s so sweet,” you smiled. He looked up at you, smiling shyly.  
“But why?” you wondered.  
“I was worried about you,” he admitted softly. “I didn’t think I could live with myself if you didn’t wake up.”  
“What do you mean?” you asked.  
“It was my fault you got hurt. That missile was aimed at me. You got hurt trying to save me.”  
You nodded slowly. That was exactly what happened, and you couldn’t argue it. “I don’t want you to blame yourself.”  
“That will be much easier now that you’re awake,” he smiled. “I also… had things to tell you…”  
“What things?”  
He looked up at you through his lashes, shyness and embarrassment growing and showing plainly on his face. You looked back with intrigue, desperately curious.  
“I think I’m in love with you,” he whispered.  
Time came to a stop as you looked into those baby blues. He loved you?  
He mistook your silence and looked down. “That was inappropriate of me. I should-”  
He was cut off by your hand weakly grabbing his shirt and pulling him closer. You leaned in and pressed your lips to his, pouring your every thought and emotion into that one kiss. He felt the love and returned it, resting one hand on your waist and placing the other behind your head. A soft sigh of relief escaped his lips as you parted for air.  
“I’m in love with you too,” you admitted with a grin. “I have been for a long time.”  
“I’m never letting you out of my sight,” he promised, leaning in for another kiss.


	19. We Go Back Like 1940

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You organize a '40s themed party for Steve

**We Go Back Like 1940**  
Request for _lostgirlemily_  
 **A/N** : “Listen up ‘cause I love ya lady, we go back like 1980…”  
I know very little about the ‘40s but I had a lot of fun with this one. It makes me wanna have themed parties.

No matter how much he adjusted to the twenty-first century, everyone could tell that Steve missed his time in the ‘40s. The dances, the clothes, the conversations. No cell phones or computers or digital junk, just chatting with your friends and, hopefully, dancing with a pretty lady. He missed the simpler times, but they were all gone.

You had a plan.  
His thirtieth birthday was coming up – thirtieth if you took out the seventy years he was on ice. You were planning a party just for Steve, and you got the entire team (including Fury, Hill, and Coulson) to help you out.  
Your apartment was completely decked out. Posters of pin-up girls and Rosie the Riveter lined the walls, along with a few Coca-Cola ads and posters of Frank Sinatra and Louis Armstrong. In the center of your kitchen table sat a camouflage trench helmet, decorated with a few leaves and flowers, and a few model airplanes were placed strategically around the room. A vintage radio sat on the kitchen counter, a trumpet was placed on the living room bookshelf, sheet music was laid on the coffee table, and chairs were lined with strings of pearls. Glass Coca-Cola bottles and packets of rock candy sat on the table, waiting to be enjoyed. A tub of vanilla ice cream sat in the freezer, waiting to be matched with the box of ice cream cones in the cupboard.  
A pot of clam chowder sat on the stove beside a plate of stuffed olives and celery on the counter. Endive and watercress and grape salads sat on the table along with a plate of gingerbread and oatmeal cookies. A lemon merengue pie chilled in the fridge, and a handful of alcohol bottles sat on the counter waiting to be made into martinis and Manhattans.  
You’d found yourself a vintage ‘40s swing dress. It was a deep maroon color with a black trim and it just reached your knees. The sleeves puffed out a little, reminding you of a princess dress. Your feet were covered with black open-toed high heels. You pin-curled your hair neatly and slipped a bright red headband onto your head. Mascara lined your eyes and red lipstick claimed your lips. Your fingernails were painted to match.  
You bought cardstock paper and handwrote the invitations in the fanciest cursive script you could manage, telling everyone to dress appropriately and bring party favors.

The party began at seven, and everyone except for Tony, Bruce, and Steve had arrived early. Maria and Natasha helped you finished decorating, and Pepper looked online to see if there was anything important you missed. Tony and Bruce helped get Steve ready, ignoring his confusion when they ordered him to dress in a uniform. His confusion only grew when he saw both of them in uniform as well.  
A knock came upon the door and you smiled brightly. You took a breath and opened it, grinning as you leaned against it. Steve’s jaw dropped at the sight of you before he stepped inside and took in the rest of the room.  
“It looks great,” Bruce smiled.  
“(y/n)…” Steve breathed, looking around your apartment. “You did all of this?”  
“Of course I did,” you smiled. “Do you like it?”  
He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you up and spinning you around. You giggled at the sudden movement and could hear the others laughing. He set you down and you turned to Jane. “Start the music.”  
She nodded and moved to the CD player sitting on the coffee table. CD players weren’t vintage, but you couldn’t find a working juke box. You’d burned a CD of ‘40s music, and Frank Sinatra’s “Five Minutes More” blasted through the speakers. Tony and Pepper paired off, as did Thor and Jane. Clint danced with Natasha and Phil danced with Maria. Steve looked at you sweetly and held out his hand.  
“May I have this dance?” he asked politely.  
“You may,” you smiled, accepting his hand. Your bodies moved in tune with the song, and you giggled as you watched Thor try to dance to jazz.  
When the song ended, you led Steve to the kitchen so he could check out all of your food choices. A soft smile graced his features and you could only hope the look in his eyes was reminiscent.  
“You did all of this for me?” he asked, standing in front of you and resting his hands on your hips.  
“I know how much you miss it,” you replied, stretching up to peck his lips. “You may not say it but I know you loved the forties. So I recreated it.”  
“You’re amazing,” he breathed, pulling you into a hug. You smiled and returned it, keeping his arms around you as you reached for two of the Coke bottles on the table. You offered him one with a smile and let him pop the cap for you.  
“To us,” you toasted, holding up your bottle. He smiled and gently hit your bottle with his before taking a sip. He then leaned down and pecked your lips, lingering for a moment.  
You could feel the others watching your little moment but you ignored them. Tonight was about Steve and how much you loved him. You reached out and plucked an oatmeal cookie from the plate, offering it to him. You recalled him telling you that they were his favorite.

Everyone left sometime around midnight, and you ensured that everyone had a designated driver. Of course, the only ones that needed it were Tony and Clint – Midgardian booze was too weak to intoxicate Thor and Bruce didn’t drink for fear of releasing the Other Guy. Natasha was a responsible drinker and chose not to get wasted, along with the rest of your guests.  
You thanked them all for coming and saw that they were all headed home safely before you closed the front door and turned your attention back to Steve.  
“I still can’t believe you put all of this together for me,” he smiled, wrapping his arms around your waist.  
“Anything for you,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck. You pressed your lips to his and smiled as he lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist, and carried you to your room.


	20. Do You See Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're blind and fall in love with Steve

**Do You See Me?**  
Request for _Rawr_

Being born blind had given you enough time to accommodate the disability. Your parents quickly acquired a guide dog, a beautiful German shepherd that you named (pet/n). He stuck by your side every hour of every day, providing you with assistance and comfort. He cuddled with you when your progress was stunted, his head resting in your lap, sensing your unhappiness. The two of you were practically telepathic with how in tune he was to your feelings.  
Because you were born with your condition and hadn’t been through a tragic accident, no physical damage had been done to your eyes, so they were still sparkly (e/c). As a result, nobody assumed you were vision impaired. By the time you were a young woman, your other senses had kicked into overdrive, so you could interact with anyone without much difficulty. It wasn’t until someone made a comment that required actually looking at something that you had to point out your handicap.

You became friends with the Avengers during a battle where you almost got killed. You and (pet/n) had gotten separated and there was so much noise between the fighting heroes and screaming civilians that you had no idea where you were.  
You pulled an extendable walking stick from your purse, something that you’d decided to keep on hand after the first time you and (pet/n) had to be apart, and tapped it on the ground. It proved to be of minimal assistance as you realized that the pavement, along with the rest of the ground, was cracked and broken. You padded along carefully until an alien monster whisked you away, leaving you blind, flying through the air, and screaming.  
Captain America had come to your rescue, flinging his shield into the monster like a patriotic Frisbee. You were then dropped which only added to your screams of terror. You were caught in two big strong arms, cuddled against a warm chest. He carefully set you on your feet before looking you over.  
“Are you alright, ma’am?” he asked.  
“Fine,” you nodded shakily.  
“Not to be rude but weren’t you watching where you were going? You walked straight into that alien.”  
“I can’t see,” you admitted. Gentle hands cupped your face, presumably turning yours to meet his.  
“Were you born with it?” he asked. “Your eyes are beautiful…”  
“Thank you,” you replied, a blush claiming your cheeks. “Yes, I was born with it.”

Steve had taken a liking to you and took it upon himself to keep you safe. Perhaps it was stupid, worrying about one blind girl when dozens of elderly people and young children and citizens in wheelchairs were in danger, but he couldn’t help it. He ensured that you were taken care of after he rescued you, and he offered you to stay with the Avengers. The rest of the team had approved, either out of pity or curiosity and, having no one but (pet/n) in your life, you agreed. Said realization made you panic and wonder where he’d gotten off to, and Bruce offered to find him. By the time Steve had gotten you back to the Tower, Bruce had found your dog and brought him back. Tony had very strict pet rules, but the fact that he was your guide dog changed the billionaire’s mind.  
The Tower took a lot of getting used to. So many floors, each with so many rooms. You often roamed the room with your arms out, feeling the walls and furniture. (pet/n) helped a lot, barking before you ran into something and nudging you towards the safer path. Steve assisted you as much as he could. He was always right there when you had a question, and you’d grown fond of his company.  
Tony had, without thinking, asked if you’d like to join in on a movie night. Steve worried that you’d be offended, but you understood that your natural eye color often confused people and led them to believe your eyes were undamaged. You’d simply chuckled and agreed, deciding that you could listen and follow along.  
Steve always stuck close to you, so you ended up cuddled against his side during the movie. You could hear Tony snickering softly and the soft smack of Natasha’s hand colliding with his chest. You chuckled softly, snuggling into Steve’s side. Your head rested on his shoulder as you closed your eyes, listening to the characters interact on screen. You eventually dozed off, your leaned position weighing you down until you were curled up on the couch with your head on Steve’s lap.

You were naturally a cautious person, especially after almost getting killed. You stayed locked in your room whenever New York was attacked, and you never gave out information that enemies could use against the team.  
Your panic rose when you called for your trusty guide and didn’t hear his bark in reply. There was a large battle going on outside and you could hear the enemy getting closer. You’d gotten used to the layout of the Tower and instinctively looked up at the ceiling, calling to JARVIS.  
“Yes, Miss (l/n)?” the AI replied.  
“Where’s (pet/n)?” you asked, worried.  
“I-I am not sure, Miss (l/n).”  
You rushed to the elevator after asking the AI to check the security cameras. Once you got to the ground floor and walked by the main entrance to the Tower, you heard familiar barking from outside. You gulped before leaning against the door, pushing it open. It had become a rule that you stay inside and safe when bad things were occurring outside, but your dog was out there, and you had to get him back.  
Pulling out your walking stick, you headed into the dangers of the street. You could hear civilians screaming and monsters roaring as the Avengers fought. You cringed as you nearly tripped over another crack in the sidewalk.  
Your search was cut short. You hadn’t gotten more than a few feet down the sidewalk before tripping over an upturned slab of pavement. The tail end of the creature the team was fighting caught your back as you tried to stand, sending you flying into a nearby wall. You caught it head-first, hearing an unpleasant crack from within your nose. You could feel the blood dripping down the side of your face, seeping out of the new cut on your forehead. You fell back against the ground, head slamming back and knocking you unconscious.

You could feel your eyes opening and, not for the first time, cursed your lack of vision. At least if you could see you’d know if you were truly awake or still dreaming.  
“Thank God you’re alright!” a familiar voice cried from beside you.  
Well, that answered that.  
“Steve?” you asked uncertainly as gentle hands cupped your face.  
“I’m right here, (y/n),” he replied softly, pressing a kiss to your head. “Are you alright? I was worried.”  
“I’m fine, I think,” you replied. “What happened?”  
“You got hit by the monster we were fighting. It slammed you into a wall and you passed out,” he explained. “Why did you go outside?”  
“I couldn’t find (pet/n). I was worried about him.”  
“He was hiding in the basement. The security cameras were down so JARVIS couldn’t see him.”  
A sigh of relief escaped your lips. At least he was safe.  
“I’m sorry if I worried you,” you mumbled, smiling softly upon realizing that his hands were still caressing your face.  
“You’re safe now,” he replied, resting his head on yours. “That’s what matters.”  
You smiled and nodded as a comfortable silence fell upon you two. You could hear him clear his throat and could almost feel how nervous he was.  
“Are you alright?” you asked gently.  
He didn’t reply, and before you could ask again, warm lips claimed yours. Your eyes fluttered closed as you responded almost immediately. One of his hands slid to the back of your head, gently tangling in your hair. Your hands reached up to rest on his chest.  
He pulled away, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “I love you, (y/n).”  
You smiled up at him, pecking his lips. “I love you too, Steve.”


	21. Necromancing the Stone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve doesn't like that you're a necromancer

**Necromancing the Stone**  
Request for _Aliana Louise Caruso_  
 **A/N:** Bucky’s dead in this one.

“You’re going to get yourself killed!”  
It was an ironic argument considering your abilities.  
“Steve,” you reasoned, “I’m fine.”  
“This time,” he replied. “What happens when you contact a dangerous ghost? What happens when your dark forces turn against you?”  
“That won’t happen!” you insisted. “I know what I’m doing!”

Not too long ago, you’d discovered that you could communicate with the dead. You seemed to have an affinity for it, requiring you to put less effort into your communications. You only needed a simple spell to amplify your existing powers rather than a long, complicated spell as used by mortals.  
You’d found it useful for gathering information. Shortly after discovering your abilities, you contacted the spirits of your lost relatives and learned that you weren’t the only one. Your mother and grandmother had both had the gift, along with your older sister.  
There was some validity to Steve’s concerns. Three other family members had the same ability, and they had all died mysteriously. He was worried that an angry spirit would punish you for disturbing them, or that you’d branch away from spirits and try to connect with corpses.  
You’d sworn off the latter. You weren’t sure you actually believed in all the zombie apocalypse nonsense running through people’s minds, but you didn’t want to jumpstart it, either. Corpses, especially those that had begun to decay and look like zombie material, were tricky and unpredictable. Ghosts were safer as it took a great deal of energy to manipulate solid objects, making it harder for them to physically hurt you.

“You know I know how to take care of myself,” you continued, growing irritated at the Captain’s lack of faith in you. “I’ve had this power for a long time. I know how to use it.”  
“I know you do,” Steve sighed. “I don’t doubt your abilities, (y/n). I’m just worried. I don’t want you to slip up and get hurt.”  
“You don’t trust me,” you summarized, looking at the blond with more hurt in your eyes than you’d ever felt before. “You think I’m going to mess it up. You don’t think I can handle myself.”  
“I never said that-”  
You cut him off with a hand, turning on your heel. “Forget it. I hope you find someone you don’t have to constantly look out for. Goodbye Steve.”

You hadn’t spoken in over a week. The others tried to rebuild the bridge between you and Steve, but you quickly burned it back down. You were thoroughly convinced that Steve didn’t trust you with your own abilities, so you kept your distance. You spent more time at your apartment, ceasing your visits to the Tower. Communication with the team soon dissipated, and you went back to the life you had before you befriended the Avengers.  
It hurt when you thought about it. Some nights you stayed up late with a pint of Ben  & Jerry’s and your favorite movies, getting lost in fictional worlds until odd hours of the morning. When the pain stung too deep, you’d contact your mother’s spirit. You’d told her about Steve’s concern and your fight, and she’d smiled sweetly and shook her head.  
“Darling,” she’d begun softly. “You have to see his side. Communicating with the dead is serious business. He’s only worried for your safety.”  
“He doesn’t trust me,” you’d argued, shaking your head. “He doesn’t think I can do this.”  
“He wants you to be safe,” your mother had replied. “Necromancy is frightening for those who don’t understand. He doesn’t know the risks, and he doesn’t know how well you’ve been trained. Perhaps you could show him.”  
“Show him? Like have him there when I call someone?”  
She had nodded. “Exactly. Call someone that he knew, perhaps.”  
You thought it over before nodding. Maybe then Steve would understand.

He was understandably surprised when you arrived at the Tower. You had tried to call him, but every time he answered, all of the hurt and anger came rushing back to mind and your voice refused to work. So you plucked up all the courage you could and made your way to the Tower, asking JARVIS to take you to Steve.  
“What are you doing here?” he asked sullenly. You knew that voice – he was just as emotional as you were, but he was trying to mask it and put on a brave face.  
“I had an idea,” you replied softly, confidence faltering as you looked at your feet.  
“What idea?” he asked, fixing a cup of coffee.  
“My mom told me that your concern may be because you don’t entirely understand what I can do,” you replied slowly, choosing your words. “So she suggested that I show you.”  
You were comfortable being honest with your source of information, as he knew you communicated with your mother when you were stressed.  
“Show me?”  
“Show you what I do. Show you… how I talk to people.”  
He seemed to consider it as he looked at you. “Alright.”  
As you headed outside you told him, “Bring a photo of Bucky.”

You brought him back to your apartment and told him to make himself comfortable. He sat on the couch as he had countless times, looking around at the decorations. He noticed a few picture frames lying on their fronts and mused that they must be photos of you two together.  
You grabbed your lighter and approached the altar set up at the far wall of your living room. Steve watched as you lit all of the candles and set the photo of Bucky in the middle. You whispered a spell, praying to Kore, Persephone, Ereshgikal, and Thoth for help and protection. (1) A holographic image of Bucky appeared, and his brows furrowed in confusion as he looked from you to Steve.  
“Steve?” he asked. “What’s going on?”  
“Hi, Bucky,” you greeted. “I’m (y/n). I’m Steve’s… friend…” Your heart stung as you realized that “girlfriend” was no longer applicable.  
“I’m still dead, aren’t I?” he asked.  
“Yes,” you nodded. “I’m a necromancer. I brought you back for Steve.” You turned to the blond and nodded. Steve slowly rose from his seat and approached the altar.  
“Bucky?” he greeted softly, barely able to speak. He hadn’t seen his lost friend since.  
“Steve,” the soldier smiled. “How are you?”  
“Good,” Steve nodded slowly.  
“Why did you call me?” Bucky asked. “Is something wrong?”  
“I… I made a mistake,” Steve sighed.  
“How so?” his friend inquired.  
“I pushed away the most important woman in my life,” the blond replied softly, turning to look at you.  
“What happened?” Bucky asked.  
“I let my fear control my judgment,” he explained. “I didn’t understand the details of necromancy, and I didn’t understand that you had it all under control. I should have had more faith in you.”  
“Steve…” you breathed, looking at him. He stepped closer, resting his hands on your hips.  
“(y/n),” he began, resting his forehead on yours. “I’m sorry.”  
“Do you trust me?” you asked softly.  
“With my life,” he smiled. You returned the gesture as his hands reached up to cup your face, bringing your lips to his.  
“My work here is done,” Bucky stated, re-alerting you to his presence. You blushed while Steve said goodbye, and the hologram disappeared.  
“So we’re good?” you asked, looking up at him.  
He pressed his lips lovingly to yours, holding you close. “Better than good.”

 

(1) I did some research on necromancy and toned it down because you now have an affinity for it, but there was a bit about spells and sacrifices and praying to a handful of Greek gods for help. I took a few of them.


	22. Say That You Love Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Making friends is hard when you're a Silvertongue

**Love Me, Love Me, Say That You Love Me**  
Request for _reader_

Leading a lonely life was, well, lonely.  
You’d had friends before, but that always ended badly. Boyfriends were absolutely out of the question.  
Initially, you’d kept your powers to yourself, simply telling people, when they asked, that you had a way with words and could be very persuasive. It didn’t cause much of a problem- most people thought it was cute- until a fight arose and you still got your way. Fights never lasted long, as you could convince them to forgive you without meaning to. But sometimes that led to a bigger fight. People believed that you were twisting their words and manipulating them into getting what you wanted, and many a time they ceased their friendship with you.  
Relationships went about the same way. Sometimes your boyfriends would think it was cute that they always gave in and forgave you, and your relationship continued on as though nothing had happened. But then there would be that one boy who got angry, like your friends had. He’d accuse you of being a manipulator and terminate the relationship.  
It was never intentional on your part, of course – you were a Silvertongue. You could control any given situation with your words, and it often happened without your consent. It wasn’t like laser vision or controlling fire. You had no control over your Silvertongue abilities. They just happened, and only after the other party questioned you did you realize that it happened.

You’d grown accustomed to being alone. It was easier than going through multiple breakups and terminated friendships.  
Of course, everyone then accused you of being selfish, keeping to yourself because you didn’t want to be around people. You tried to explain at first, telling them that it was better if you were alone, that you wanted to protect your friends. But no one listened. No one wanted to hear your reasons or your fears. They just wanted to judge.  
You didn’t dare tell anyone your secret. How would that look? And you knew that everyone would accuse you of using your power intentionally to get your own way.  
You moved to a new town where you had no history with any of the residents. It was a small town outside of Manhattan, and you’d gotten a job at the bookstore a few blocks away from your house. It was close enough to walk, and right next door was a little café that you often visited before or after work. If it was a slow morning, you’d get a latte or a tea before work, and if you got off early, you’d spend hours sitting in a corner of the café, reading your latest book choice.  
You quickly became a regular at the café, the baristas learning your name and your drink preferences. You had a couple of regular drinks, depending on your mood, and you’d fallen in love with the café’s pumpkin bread and blueberry muffins. (1) They had cushy leather chairs around the room as well as regular group tables. You always opted for a chair in the corner, beside a small coffee table, where you could curl up and read your book in peace.

One particular day, you got off work around four o’ clock in the afternoon, and of course you decided to visit the café. The barista smiled at you, offering a friendly “Hey, (y/n)” as you pulled your hood off. It was autumn, and though it hadn’t begun to snow yet, it was quite chilly, cold enough for scarves and gloves and furry hoods.  
“Coffee or tea?” the barista, Ashley, asked sweetly. You smiled at her – she was your favorite.  
“Tea,” you replied. “I need to relax.”  
“Long day?” she asked, pouring hot water into a sleeved cup.  
“So many complaints,” you sighed, looking at their display case of pastries. Customer after customer had come into the store, returning books and other merchandise, claiming that it was defective or otherwise in need of returning.  
“The bread is freshly baked,” Ashley grinned as you eyed the treats. You giggled softly and nodded, watching as she added a slice of bread to your charge.  
“Your favorite chair is open,” she noted, handing you your tea and bread, “but someone is sitting in the next seat.”  
You turned your head, confused and slightly frightful. You liked keeping to yourself, your only social life being Ashley and your co-workers. In the chair beside yours you saw a tall blond, sipping a hot chocolate and cutting into a slice of apple pie.  
“Who is that?” you asked, still watching. “Is he new?”  
“You don’t recognize him?” Ashley replied, surprised. You shook your head.  
“That’s Steve Rogers,” she stated as though it were obvious. “Captain America? American hero? One of the Avengers?”  
You nodded slowly. You watched the news occasionally, but apparently not enough to be caught up. Clutching your tea, you sauntered over to your favorite chair and took a seat.  
“Good afternoon, ma’am,” he smiled, looking up at you. Your breath hitched as your (e/c) eyes met his baby blues.  
“Afternoon,” you replied softly, curling into the plush leather.  
“Do you come here often?” he asked.  
“Regularly,” you replied, pulling a piece off your pumpkin bread.  
You spent the next hour conversing with Captain America, and you constantly forgot that he was a world-saving celebrity. He spoke so calmly, so humbly, and he was so friendly. You had so much in common, and for once you felt like a person instead of a freak.

He continued to meet you in the café, having learned your work schedule. It felt nice, having someone be so excited to see you every day. But you had to constantly remind yourself that you couldn’t have a relationship with him. Hell, you couldn’t even have a full friendship with him.  
One day, he surprised you. You came in after work, as usual, and sat down in your favorite chair. He was waiting in the seat beside you with your favorite drink and a blueberry muffin in hand. You thanked him shyly for his kindness as he continued to smile at you.  
“I was wondering,” he began. “I hope this isn’t too forward, but I was wondering if you’d like to go on a date with me.”  
You nearly choked on your muffin as you looked up at him. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea…”  
His face fell. “It was just a thought. I’m sorry if I offended you, ma’am. I just thought we were getting along really well.”  
“I agree entirely,” you insisted quickly. “It’s just… There are things you don’t know about me. Things that push people away. There’s a reason I moved to a new town and don’t have any friends.”  
“This may be odd, but I’d love to know everything there is to know about you,” he countered.  
You looked into his eyes, full of admiration, hope, and sincerity. You let out a soft sigh, knowing that at least one of you would get hurt in the end. You offered him a soft smile. “When would you like to go on that date?”

The following night, Steve arrived at your small apartment in a grey t-shirt, faded blue jeans, white sneakers, and a black blazer. (2) You had exchanged numbers the day before at the café and the plan was for him to take you to the best Italian restaurant in the city.  
You wore a vintage style dress with a sweetheart neckline and inch-thick straps. You slipped on simple strappy sandals and applied a light coat of mascara to your lashes. You lightly curled your (h/l) (h/c) locks and draped them over one shoulder.  
Smiling at your reflection, you turned and headed towards the door to let Steve in.  
“You look beautiful,” he smiled.  
“Thanks,” you blushed. He offered you his arm, which you accepted as he led you out to his car.  
It was a short drive to the restaurant. Being the gentleman he is, Steve opened your door and held open the door to the restaurant, letting you go in first. Wide eyes and whispers met you as you walked in with Captain America on your arm. The hostess played it cool, leading you to your table without fawning.  
Once you were seated, she handed you your menus and took your drink orders before sauntering away.  
“So what’s the deep dark secret that caused you to say no?” Steve asked as your drinks arrived.  
You waited for the waitress to leave again. “I’m a Silvertongue. I can make people say or do whatever I want them to just by saying something about it. I don’t do it on purpose though!” You let out a sigh. “That’s what’s ruined all of my relationships. I get into a fight with the other person and they end up forgiving me or saying something they don’t want to and as soon as they realize that I caused it they accuse me of being selfish and they no longer want anything to do with me.”  
“Have you explained that you can’t control it? That you’re not trying to control them?” Steve inquired.  
“Every time,” you sighed. “They don’t listen. They don’t care.”  
You stared down at your lap, embarrassed by the conversation and waiting for Steve to decide that you weren’t worth the trouble.  
You were surprised to feel a warm hand engulfing yours. You looked up to find equally warm eyes and a soft smile.  
“I care. I’ll listen.”

You continued going on dates with the super soldier. He made you feel like a person, and so far you hadn’t fought. You worried about the day, should it come, but he told you that you two would figure it out. He’d learned how to tell when your powers were showing – your eyes flashed a different color when your Silvertongue activated. He would notice immediately and smiled softly, and you knew that something had happened. So far it had been little things, like choosing a movie for your date or where to go for lunch. It hadn’t been anything serious, but at least he knew how to tell. That gave you a sense of ease when you thought of what would happen should you fight.

Most nights ended like this one – you and Steve cuddled up on yours or his couch, watching a movie. A blanket would be draped around you as you settled against his chest, his arms wrapped snuggly around you. Your head would be in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent to lull you to sleep. He’d pull you closer and kiss your head, murmuring sweet nothings in your ear.  
“I love you, Steve,” you’d whisper.  
“I love you, Silvertongue,” he’d reply.

 

(1) My personal favorites when I go to coffee shops  
(2) I love that look, casual clothes and a blazer.


	23. Imaginary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have a terrible nightmare about Steve

**Imaginary**  
Request for _ˣ.Ƈαƨƨу-Ɗσησ.ˣ_  
**A/N:** Steve is very OOC in the beginning. Bear with me. It’s part of the story. And the request.

_A frightened whimper escaped your lips as he sauntered closer, eyes glossed over with anger and darkness. How could this be the same man you’d fallen in love with? His once friendly smile was replaced with a drunken scowl, and those hands that used to run gently through your hair were now clenched into tight fists, knuckles reddened from previous use._  
You tried to curl into yourself, one hand hovering above your head. Your entire body shook with fear, wondering what he’d do next. You were already black and blue, purplish bruises and bleeding cuts littering your body. Your split lip stung and your head was pounding from being slammed into the wall. You weren’t sure you could walk, having twisted your ankle when you fell, and you were fairly certain you had a broken wrist.  
“Don’t cower,” he growled angrily, grabbing a fistful of your hair. You gasped in pain and surprised and reluctantly looked up at him, knowing it would be worse if you didn’t. Fresh tears sprang past your lids as you looked into his baby blues. That was definitely not the man you fell in love with.

A gasp flew from your lungs as you bolted upright, a cold sweat drenching your skin. You looked down at your arms, still shaking, to find them their normal peachy color, darkened in the shadows of your bedroom. You took a few panting breaths, trying to calm your racing heart. You knew you were awake and alive, your skin no longer covered in contusions or lacerations, but still you trembled under the moonlight. You blinked rapidly, wiping away the frightened tears brimming behind your eyes. You could tell that no bones were broken, and not a single part of your body was sore.  
But the man lying beside you, breathing gently as though nothing had happened, still scared you. You looked hesitantly at his bright blond hair, perfectly visible in the night, and shuddered. How could you possibly go back to sleep with those images so vivid in your mind?  
A quiet sob escaped your lips, causing him to stir. You froze immediately, unable to remind yourself that it was only a dream. You were half sure he would hurt you just for waking him.  
“(y/n)?” a surprisingly gentle voice called, still thick with sleep. You stayed perfectly still, save for your heaving chest as you panted quietly.  
“What’s wrong? Why are you awake?”  
Still you remained quiet, causing his apparent concern to grow. You felt the bed shift as he sat up and scooted closer, one hand resting atop yours. You flinched and shifted away, pulling your hands together and pulling them to your chest. Your eyes glanced down at his hand, sitting uncertainly on the sheets. You didn’t dare meet his eyes. What would he do?  
“Honey, what is it?” he asked, voice still soft and gentle. You looked down and squeezed your eyes shut, more tears spilling over, landing silently on the sheet bundled up on your lap.  
“Talk to me, sweetie,” he whispered, a warm hand cupping your chin. Your eyes closed tighter and your body shook as you tried to hold back sobs. Your separation of reality and subconscious was blurred, and all you could think about was being battered and broken on the floor.  
The gentle hand on your chin turned your head to look at him, and you felt compelled to open your eyes. It would anger him if you didn’t, right?  
Teary (e/c) eyes met concerned blue and his arms wrapped around you. Your eyes widened and your panic spiked, and you squirmed against his chest. His brows furrowed in confusion – you never refused his hugs. He stared at you, alarmed, as you tried to pull away. Tears flowed freely from your eyes and he finally let you go, looking crestfallen and rejected.  
“(y/n)?” he whispered, afraid of frightening you.  
“Please don’t hurt me!” you cried, curling into yourself and sobbing vocally. Your arms wrapped around your head, trying to hide yourself.  
Realization hit him like a brick house and he let out a sigh. “Did you have a nightmare?”  
You nodded vigorously, still curled into yourself. His arms wrapped around you again, hesitantly, hoping not to startle you. One hand rubbed gentle circles on your back, trying to coax you out of your dream. The other rested on your arm lovingly. You tried to calm your breathing, taking deep breaths in-between your sobs. You glanced over at his passive position, calm and unmoving. You looked up at his face, finding nothing but love and concern for your wellbeing.  
“You know it’s me, right?” he asked. “Whatever happened in your dream is fake. I would never hurt you.”  
The hand on your back snaked up to your head, gently combing its fingers through your hair. Your eyes closed on contact and you leaned into the touch.  
He smiled softly. This always calmed you down when you were upset.  
“Steve?” you whispered.  
“Yes?”  
“It’s really you?”  
“It’s really me.”  
“You’re not… mad… at me?”  
“I have no reason to be mad at you.”  
You lowered your hands from your head and launched into his chest, closing your eyes. His arms wrapped around you, holding you securely.  
“What happened?” he whispered.  
“You… You got mad and… I don’t know why…”  
He held you closer, tighter, kissing your hair. “You don’t have to talk about it. Whatever I did, I could never hurt you. You know that, don’t you?”  
You nodded slowly, sniffling. “I just… It felt so real. And you were there when I woke up… I was scared…”  
“I understand,” he replied, kissing your head. “Just know that I’m always here for you, and I could never hurt you.”  
You curled into his arms as he lied back down. Your head rested on his chest, listening to the heart that only beat for you. He held you snuggly, giving you room to move if you chose to. You had one leg tangled between his as he pulled the sheets over both of you.  
You fell back to sleep, thankfully without anymore nightmares.


	24. Modernize Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You help Steve with modern technology

**Modernize Me**  
Request for _Random_  
 **A/N:** So in the request you mentioned the reader being Australian. I don’t know a ton about that except what I’ve heard in interviews and I didn’t want to be offensive so there isn’t much about it in the shot.

Steve was adjusting surprisingly well to modern life; as good as could be expected for someone who was frozen in ice. He retained his gentlemanly charm, though he was a bit protective. He was defensive, but not confrontational. He kept an eye on you, always wanting to keep you safe.  
Overall, he was adjusting. Most men disgusted him, given his views and beliefs. He’d seen so many guys mistreat their women as he was recreating his life in New York. He’d defended so many women when their men got aggressive, which gained him quite a following. Young women would approach him in the street or at the store and thank him, not for the first time, for whatever he did for them.  
His biggest issue was technology. Electronics had come a long way since the 1940s, and the poor super soldier wasn’t used to it. He could wire up a radio faster than you could say “Go,” but it took him fifteen minutes to turn on a DVD player. You found his trials to be rather cute and fun to watch, much to his dismay. He felt completely helpless using anything more complex than the toaster. Kitchen applications seemed to be more manageable, as they had fewer buttons and were less high-tech than most entertainment systems. Plus, it was his apartment, so he had managed to buy older appliances, like his microwave and his toaster and his basic glass coffee pot. VCRs were pretty simple, but not many stores sold VHS tapes anymore, so he eventually had to upgrade to a DVD player. He kept his old VCR for his and your collections – plus it was the only one he could actually use.  
He was also used to TVs having knobs, not tiny buttons. You’d convinced him to buy a bigger TV than the one he had. It wasn’t a fancy flat screen or anything, but it was a decent size and didn’t take up too much room. It came with a remote, which also confused the soldier.  
“It’s so you can adjust the channel or volume,” you’d explained.  
“But there are buttons on the television,” he’d replied. “Can’t I just use those?”  
“With the remote you don’t have to get up.”  
“…People are so lazy nowadays.”

You were there through all of his plights. You helped him get accustomed to modern day New York, explaining how things had changed and helping him understand the new ways of the world. You were his best friend; he trusted you above anyone else. He liked the Avengers, sure, but he wasn’t too sure about SHIELD. They basically did the same things as Hydra, but under the justification that they’re on the side of the government and the people, so it was okay. Being the gentleman soldier he was, Steve wasn’t too fond of that.  
The other supers hadn’t given him any reason to dislike them. They were just more modern, and he misunderstood a lot of things. He sometimes felt at ease with Thor, who didn’t understand Midgardian concepts, but Thor was understandable because he wasn’t from Midgard.  
Steve had been best friends with Tony’s father, and Tony wasn’t terribly nice to him for that. The innocent blond also resented the way Tony had treated women until Pepper settled him down. Tony was the type of man Steve didn’t like, even if Howard had been his friend.  
Clint kept to himself or Natasha, but his sense of humor often rivaled Tony’s. Steve didn’t understand how men today could be so disrespectful. Nat appreciated his gentlemanly nature, as did Pepper and Maria, but they were more your friends than his.  
He liked Bruce. The doctor was calm and friendly, and he seemed to have a more humble view on things. Perhaps it was because of the Other Guy and him thinking himself a monster. Steve didn’t have deep and meaningful conversations with the doctor, but they could chat better than he could with the other members of the team. Bruce was kind and quiet and didn’t expect a lot from other people. Steve enjoyed his placid demeanor and lack of judgment.

You would often have movie nights with the super soldier after convincing him that he needed to watch more movies. He knew of a few from his time, like The Wizard of Oz and Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. He enjoyed those lighthearted, feel-good films. Many people suggested movies for him to see, so you would rent the ones you didn’t already own and go spend the night at his apartment.  
There would be popcorn and cookies and soda like you were a couple of teenagers, and you would smile fondly when he got really into the movie and began truly enjoying himself. You enjoyed watching how his eyes lit up when he finally understood a reference.

One night you went to his apartment for a movie night, and he was not having a good day.  
Tony had decided that, to fully enjoy modern day films, Steve needed a Blu-ray player. He bought it and set it up, giving the poor soldier no warning or time to protest, or even instructions on how to control it.  
So when you arrived at his apartment with a stack of movies under your arm, you opened the door to a loud cry of frustration.  
“Steve?” you called, gently pushing past the door. Though he was facing away from you, you could clearly see his position. He was seated on the couch with his feet on the floor and his elbows resting on his knees. His forehead rested on his palms as his fingers dug into his hair. His breath came in irritated pants as the TV sat innocently on the shelf, displaying a blue screen and awaiting further instructions.  
“Hey,” he mumbled, not looking up. You set the DVDs on the coffee table as you sat beside him. You placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to get his attention.  
“What is it?” you asked. “What’s wrong?”  
“Tony,” he groaned.  
“What did he do?” you pressed gently.  
“He bought me a new DVD player and set it up and didn’t tell me how to do anything with it so I don’t know what any of the buttons mean,” he sighed.  
Your heart broke for him. You knew how much he hated not understanding technology. You pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek and asked where the remote was.  
He offered a grunt of annoyance and a head jerk behind him. You stood and found the remote lying on the floor where it must have been thrown in a fit of anger. You suppressed a giggle at the mental image of Steve throwing a remote and bent down to pick it up. You then returned to your seat beside him and smiled sweetly.  
“Come on,” you whispered, reaching up to pull one of his hands away from his face. He watched from the corner of his eye as you held his hand in your own and interlaced your fingers. It was something you did often to calm him. You then pointed the remote at the DVD player which sat atop the TV and pressed “Play.” It began its roll of previews and FBI warnings and finally got the menu.  
“It’s just a fancier DVD player,” you stated, leaning against his shoulder. “I can unhook it and put your old one back up tomorrow if you want.”  
He smiled softly. “I’d like that.”  
You smiled and leaned back against the couch as the movie started.

About halfway through the movie Steve’s focus was deterred. He stared at you, wondering how such a wonderful, beautiful girl could be so kind to him.  
You caught his stare from the corner of your eye and turned to face him. “What is it?”  
He leaned in closer, placing a hand on your cheek. You smiled and leaned into his touch, looking up at him. His eyes were full of admiration and love as they gazed into yours.  
“Can I kiss you?” he whispered, his lips inches away from yours. You could barely manage a nod as he closed the gap, warmth flooding your lips. Your arms wrapped around his neck as your fingers tangled in his hair. His arms held your waist securely. A soft sigh escaped your lips as he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. You smiled up at him, resting a hand on his cheek.  
“I love you, (y/n).”  
You bit your lip and smiled, kissing his nose. “I love you too, Steve.”


	25. Call Me Maybe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You save Steve from a hoard of fangirls

**Call Me Maybe**  
Request for _npetfan_  
 **A/N:** Co-written by Blossom.

You were a peaceful person.  
Early in the morning, when the sun had just risen, you loved to go for long strolls around the park. You'd then sit on a bench beside the pond and stare over the beautiful water.  
It was so quiet, a time where the sky was beautiful colors and everyone was probably still in bed. It was a chance to be as true to yourself as you want, as if nobody was watching, as if you were the only person in the world.  
It was on one of these strolls, where you were sat by the pond, when you realized you weren’t the only person awake. A tall, muscular blond man also seemed to enjoy leisurely strolls around the pond. Often he acknowledged your presence with a soft smile and a mumbled "Hi".  
You were aching to talk to him.  
The next day you decided to speak to him and find out about his life. By the time you reached the pond though, a sight met you.  
The man was surrounded by a mob of girls, who had clearly got wind of his early morning schedule. You wondered why you hadn’t expected it. After all, you knew who he was. He was Steve Rogers; Captain America. He had a hoard of beautiful fans waiting to bend over backwards to make him happy – why would he settle with you?  
You let out a soft sigh as you realized there was no way of getting close enough to talk to him. Those fangirls could be vicious. They’d never let you get close. And in the chaos of screaming girls, Steve would probably think you were just another one of them, nothing special.  
You were about to walk away and continue your morning in solitude, but you stopped to look up at his handsome face one more time. Upon doing so you discover that while he smiles pleasantly to appease his fans, you can see the discomfort in his eyes. He seems to want nothing more than to run away and regain his freedom, but if there’s one thing anyone knows about Steve Rogers, it’s that he’s a gentleman. He’s far too polite to risk offending his fans by running away.  
So he’s stuck.  
An idea formulated in your head. You had a plan to help the super soldier out of his current predicament. It would get him away from the hoard and, perhaps, strike up a conversation with the gorgeous blond.  
You took a breath, preparing yourself for your plan. It took a bigger amount of confidence than you generally had, especially when it came to approaching a celebrity. Putting on a sweet smile, you sauntered up to Steve and his fangirls, swaying your hips tauntingly.  
“There you are, sweetie,” you cooed, walking right up to the super soldier and placing your hands on his chest. You let your head rest on his shoulder as you smiled up at him. “I’ve been looking for you. I thought we were going to breakfast.”  
He faltered slightly, and for a moment you wondered if he’d rat you out and not take the help. But instead he smiled and wrapped an arm around your waist, and you ignored the chill that crawled up your spine. “Of course, honey. I just wanted to go for a run first.”  
“That’s my Steve,” you replied. “All about fitness.”  
“Your Steve?” one of the girls questioned.  
“My Steve,” you emphasized, turning to look at them.  
A mixed chorus of “Aww” and “What the hell?” rang through the crowd. Some faces showed honest disappointment while others held an antagonizing glare. You could tell some of the more possessive fans didn’t believe you, but you continued to smile sweetly at Steve as though it were real.  
“Come on, hun,” he said, returning the smile. “Sorry, girls. We have to get going.”  
More disappointed noises came from the crowd as Steve tightened his arm around your shoulders and began walking away. You wrapped an arm around his waist in return, keeping him close until you were far enough away that the girls couldn’t see.  
You turned the corner, following his lead. Looking over your shoulder, you saw that the crowd had gone their separate ways, giving up on chasing Steve Rogers.  
“Thanks for that,” he said softly, turning to face you.  
“I hope it wasn’t weird,” you replied, looking down at your feet. “It just looked like you could use some help making them go away. Pretending you’re taken usually works.”  
“I should repay you,” he said. “I need to thank you somehow.”  
“You played along and let me help,” you smiled. “That’s thanks enough.”  
You turned to leave, figuring it would be better than to wait for him to reject you. A hand on your wrist caught your attention, making you turn around. You looked up to find him looking softly at you, eyes full of admiration and hope.  
“I was thinking… maybe I could take you out for coffee?” he asked slowly, as though he were afraid you’d run away.  
A blush claimed your cheeks as you nodded. “That sounds nice.”  
His eyes lit up like fireworks. “When?”  
You nibbled your lower lip slyly. “I’m free now.”

You two walked to the local coffee shop, deciding to get your drinks and then go for a walk through the park. It was a nice sunny day, though a little chilly; perfect for coffee and bonding. You found that you had a lot in common with the soldier, from personality quirks to eating habits. You both loved to go for walks or runs through town, early in the morning when the rest of New York had yet to rise. You both preferred old time music and movies to what was popular now.  
You found a wooden bench to sit on and finish your coffees, watching the sun rise higher in the sky. You felt strangely comfortable beside him, as though you’d been friends for years. Now that you’d had a proper conversation, it didn’t feel like he was a celebrity. You felt like you belonged here, by his side, sharing stories and longing gazes.  
A loud chirping broke your train of thought, and Steve dug his old-fashioned Nokia from the pocket of his sweatpants. Pressing a few buttons, he discovered that he had a text from one of the Avengers. He turned to you with apologetic disappointment. “I have to go.”  
You nodded softly in understanding. “Can we do this again?”  
He smiled and handed you his phone to add your number. After doing so you handed it back, looking up at him. He stood, pulling you up with him. His hand softly held yours, showing no sign of wanting to let go. You made no move to pull back.  
His other hand reached up, gently dragging a finger across your jaw. It then slid up to cup your cheek and you leaned into his touch. He stepped closer, bending forward slightly, leaning closer until his forehead touched yours. You tilted your head up to meet his eyes, suddenly aware of how close he was. His eyes slowly slid closed as he closed the gap between you. Your lips melded together perfectly, and you wrapped your free arm around his neck. He untangled your hands, wrapping both his arms around your waist. He used the movement to pull you against his chest, tilting his head to deepen the kiss.  
You let out a soft sigh as you pulled away for air. Your hand was still tangled in his hair as you smiled up at him.  
“I definitely want to see you again,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your nose.  
“Call me then?” you asked.  
“Absolutely.” With one last kiss to your lips he let go of your waist, whispering a soft “Goodbye” before turning to make his way to the Tower.


	26. Dog Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve becomes a dog.

Dog Steve  
Request for _Dawn_

“What do you mean, ‘Steve’s a dog’?”  
What a way to start your day.  
You looked down at the yellow Labrador at your feet, his sky blue eyes sparkling as he stared up at you. His tail wagged happily as you yelled at Tony for letting this happen. It had been Loki, of course. A spell gone wrong, apparently.  
You pinched the bridge of your nose and let out a sigh. Something cold and wet nudged your thigh and you looked down to find the dog nuzzling his nose against your leg. You smiled softly and knelt down until you were eye-level, scratching the top of his head. He barked in reply before sticking his tongue out and panting. You chuckled as you stood back up.  
“He likes you,” Tony grinned.  
You rolled your eyes. “Fine. I’ll watch him. But you’d better fix this. Captain America can’t be a canine forever.”  
Tony and Bruce swore to work on a cure. You nodded and, with one final sigh, turned to take Steve back to your apartment.

A sigh escaped your lips as you entered your apartment. Having been there before, Steve excitedly ran to the living room and jumped on the couch. He curled into a fluffy yellow ball and let out a happy bark. You smiled softly and kicked off your boots, hanging your keys on a wall hook beside the door.  
“Are you hungry, Steve?” you asked, heading into your small kitchen. He let out another bark which you took as a “yes.” Pulling open the fridge door, your tired eyes skimmed the shelves. You didn’t have a pet, so you didn’t have any spare pet food lying around. Plus, you knew him as a human, so it would have been awkward to offer Captain America a bowl of pate dog chow. Thankfully you’d recently been shopping, so you pulled out a fresh container of deli ham and pulled out a few slices. You grabbed a small plate from your cupboard and placed the ham slices on it before setting it on the floor and calling for Steve to come eat. You figured you’d make him better food since he was your best friend and he could eat a lot, but this would keep him calm for now.  
As he finished off the ham slices he began following you around the kitchen. You bent down to pick up the plate and put it in the sick, and he began nudging against you. He nuzzled your leg with his wet nose, panting happily when you reached down to scratch his head. You let out a soft chuckle and went back to cooking.  
You fried up some chopped chicken breasts in a pan on the stove, using your free hand to Google what was safe for dogs to eat. You slid a chunk of the chicken pieces onto Steve’s plate before flavoring the rest.  
You could hear him chewing gratefully as you sat down at your small kitchen table, preparing to eat your own food. Your phone chimed as you leaned back in your chair, informing you of a text.  
_From: Tony  
How’s it going? ;)_  
Rolling your eyes, you quickly typed a reply.  
_To: Tony  
Fine. He’s happy. Why are you so excited about Steve being a dog? (1)_

 _From: Tony  
No reason ;) have fun_  
You shook your head at his antics and finished your dinner. You put your dishes in the sink, deciding to do them later. You had a lot more to deal with right now.

Not bothering to wait for Steve, and not expecting him to follow you, you headed to your bedroom to change into pajamas. You slid your shirt over your head, pulling a (f/c) tank top from your dresser to replace it. You then slid out of your jeans and pulled on your favorite (pattern) pajama pants.  
A bark from the doorway caused you to jump. You turned to find the yellow Lab standing there innocently, wagging his tail. Your cheeks burned as you wondered how long he’d been standing there. If he was any other dog, it would have been fine, but he was Steve Rogers; your best friend and secret crush. Well, not so secret. Tony knew. Maybe that was why he was so happy to put you in charge of the dog…  
You didn’t know how aware dog-Steve was of his surroundings. Did he remember his life as a human? Did he recognize you? He was certainly friendly around you, so maybe he did. But if he remembered you and he just saw you in your bra and panties… A shudder crawled up your spine and you shook your head, deciding not to think about it.  
After twisting your slightly messy hair into an even messier bun, you sat on your bed. You leaned back against the pillows with a sigh. How long was he going to be a dog? Were you going to have to take care of him the whole time? Why you?  
Your phone chimed again, and you let out another sigh when you read the name.  
_From: Tony  
Fun fact. Did you know that dogs are a great judge of character? They can tell if a person is good or bad better than humans can._  
You raised a brow.  
_To: Tony  
Why is that relevant?_

_From: Tony  
You don’t think it’s suspicious that dog Steve got excited when you walked in the room?_

_To: Tony  
We’re friends. We hang out._

_From: Tony  
I’ve been talking to Loki about the spell. He says that a person who’s been turned into an animal wouldn’t be consciously aware of what they’re doing, but they would be drawn to people they like. If I were turned into a dog, I wouldn’t consciously choose who I spent time with, but I would be drawn to Pepper, because she’s my girl._

_To: Tony  
Are you saying Steve is subconsciously drawn to me?_

_From: Tony  
Don’t tell me you don’t like it._

_To: Tony  
Don’t play with my feelings._

_From: Tony  
I’m being serious. I know he has a thing for you, and him being drawn to you kinda proves it._

_To: Tony  
Just stop, Stark._

You set your phone on the bedside table and looked at the dog, nibbling your lower lip. He was happily curled at the foot of your bed, his warm belly lying atop your feet. He had fallen asleep during your texting session, and one of his front paws was wrapped around your ankle like a child cuddling a teddy bear. You smiled softly, wishing Tony‘s words to be true. But you’d been burned before, and you couldn’t risk ruining your friendship with the Captain by believing that there was a chance for the two of you.  
You settled back against the pillows and reached down over the edge of the bed. Your fingers wiggled around before tangling themselves in the throw blanket that had lost a fight with gravity and fallen on the floor. You pulled it up and draped it across your body, reaching out to your nightstand to turn off the lamp. Your eyes fluttered closed, your body warmed by the fluffy dog cuddling your feet.

You awoke the next morning to a weight on your lap and legs. You cracked open an eye and a blush immediately stained your cheeks upon realizing that the weight was caused by a very warm, very large, very human, and very naked Steve.  
He let out a soft groan and turned his head before his baby blues fluttered open. He looked around, realizing that this was not his room, nor was it a room he was familiar with. He sat up, exposing his bare torso, causing you to avert your eyes. Thankfully you’d kicked off your blanket during the night, so it was now wrapped around his hips.  
“(y/n)?” he asked tiredly, his jaw stretching in a yawn. “Why am I in your apartment?”  
“You were a dog,” you explained, still looking away. He cocked his head in confusion before looking down. His blush matched yours as he scrambled to cover himself. He’d never had a problem with going shirtless before, but he was much barer than that, and in front of the girl he loved. Waking up naked in her apartment was no way to properly court her.  
“I was a dog?” he asked, wrapping your throw blanket around his chest. Thankfully it was large enough to cover from under his arms to just above his knees. “How did that happen?”  
“Something about Loki and a spell gone wrong,” you replied. “I didn’t get the details.”  
“So why am I in your apartment?” he asked again, sitting on the edge of the bed.  
You finally looked at him, grateful for his modesty. “I took care of you while you were a dog, made sure you didn’t get into trouble.”  
A genuine smile formed on his lips. “Thank you. That was nice of you.”  
“It was nothing,” you replied. “You were easy to watch over.”  
“It means a lot,” he said sincerely, looking at you. You looked up at him, (e/c) eyes gazing into icy blue.  
“Tony… had a theory…” you said slowly, not sure if you wanted to bring it up. What if Tony was wrong? What if dog-Steve wanting to be with you meant nothing?  
“Oh?” he inquired, tilting his head cutely. “What theory?”  
“He said that dogs are a better judge of character than people, and if a person was turned into a dog, they’d be drawn to people that they like.”  
Your heart fluttered at the faint blush on his cheeks.  
“Really? What does that mean?”  
Seeing him so nervous gave you a boost of confidence. You weren’t sure why, but you felt the desire to tell him everything. You shifted to sit on your knees and scooted forward until you were almost nose-to-nose.  
“It means that, since you spent all of your time as a dog with me… that you have feelings for me.”  
He paused, his eyes darting between your sparkling orbs and your inviting lips. He watched as you sucked in your lower lip, gently nibbling on it with your upper teeth. It was a habit that you’d picked up, something you did when you were thinking or debating. He always thought it made you even cuter than you normally were.  
“What if I told you… that Tony was right?” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.  
Your eyes widened slightly at his worse. Did that mean…?  
Before you could reply, his lips were on yours. His warm hands held your cheeks lovingly, almost pleading you not to move. Your delicate hands encased his, holding him against you. You shifted so that you were sitting on his lap, pulling him as close as you could. His hands gently lifted away from your face, moving down to rest on your hips. Your hands moved to his shoulders, gently digging into the muscle.  
He nipped at your lower lip, causing your lips to part. In the back of mind he cursed himself for moving so fast. He was a gentleman; he was supposed to take you on at least one date before even a simple kiss on the lips was appropriate. Yet here he was, ravaging your lips and holding your hips like his life depended on the contact.  
You weren’t complaining. While you valued his chivalry and appreciated his gentle nature, you’d waited years for anything more than friendship to develop between you. One of your hands slid up his neck and tangled in his short blond locks, causing him to groan softly.  
He pulled away for air and you rested your forehead against his. “That was amazing,” you breathed.  
He smiled up at you. “Yes, it was.”  
“So, are we… What are we?” you asked, looking into his eyes.  
“Would you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?” he asked innocently, holding your hands.  
You grinned and slammed your lips against his. “Absolutely.”  
He smiled into the kiss and returned his hands to your hips. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you leaned back, pulling him to lay beside you, never breaking the kiss.  
Later, when the courting was done, you’d discover that you had several missed calls from Tony, along with voicemail messages telling you that the spell should be wearing off and that he knows why you’re not answering your phone and to use protection and don’t tell him about it.

 

(1) it bothers the crap out of me that when people write text messages in a story or you see people texting in a TV show the characters, especially if they’re teens, never type properly. It’s always “how r u” or “c u soon” and crap like that. Some of us actually text proper English. I understand many people do text that way, but not everyone.


	27. Sniffle Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You take care of very sick Avengers

**Sniffle Kisses**  
Request for _Dawn_  
 **A/N:** Co-written by Ioben Norfronteen.

 

Psh. Earth’s mightiest heroes.  
They were all a bunch of babies, really. They could handle alien monsters and scientifically impossible weaponry, but as soon as one of them caught a cold, their mentalities were reduced to that of four year olds.  
Maybe it was related to the illness. Baby sickness? Was that a thing? Perhaps it was. Perhaps the very experience of being sick caused their maturity to disintegrate.  
Either way, you were stuck taking care of five full grown men that had all caught a cold. You were the only one not affected, but you were also the only one left in the Tower to help them out. Natasha was on a mission, and no one from SHIELD was willing to come and lend a hand. Pepper was in California on business and Jane was in London on research.  
You sighed, rubbing your head. You’d moved all five sick Avengers down to the communal floor so that you wouldn’t have to run from room to room. Unfortunately for you, this meant that they could see and talk to one another. That wouldn’t have been so bad, but Clint and Tony kept arguing over what they should watch, which woke the others up. Once that happened, thing didn’t go so well. Thor would try to shout and wave Mjolnir, though he often forgot to speak English, so no one knew what he was saying. Bruce would whimper, mutter about a teddy bear, and attempt to plug his ears. Steve got so fed up that he stole the remote and broke it, then went back to sleep. But at least they kept each other entertained.  
Refocusing on what you were doing, you pulled the large pot of chicken noodle soup off the stove. Opening the cabinet, you pulled out five bowls and five spoons, before filling each bowl partway. You would have given them more, but you had no idea how much they could stomach right now. Grabbing two of the bowls, you carefully walked towards the open area of the communal floor. Tony and Clint were on opposite sides of one sofa, sleeping half-propped up. You put the bowls of soup on the small tables at either end of the couch without waking anyone up. Padding back into the kitchen, you grabbed another two bowls of soup. You set them at the end tables by the couches currently occupied by Thor and Steve. Going back to the kitchen once more, you walked carefully back into the open area and stopped. Bruce had, for some reason, decided to sleep on the floor. You wanted to give him the soup, but you had no idea where to put it.  
“Bruce,” You called quietly, trying to wake him without waking the others. “Bruce, I have some soup for you.” You waved the bowl in front of his face, hoping the aroma would wake him up.  
Blinking, he sat up. “Y/N?” he mumbled, slightly confused.  
“Bruce. Take your soup please.” You held it out to him. He accepted the bowl, still confused, causing you to smile. “Eat,” you ordered, gesturing to the soup. You didn’t turn away until he had taken his first bite.  
Turning to the others, you noticed that Tony was noisily slurping down his soup, as was Thor. Clint looked slightly green, and was eating very slowly, but Steve hadn’t woken up at all.  
“Steve?” You said, approaching his couch. He had wrapped himself in his blankets in such a way that you couldn’t see his face, and had no clue which side of the couch his head was even on. “Steve? Steve, you need to eat,” you said, still trying to figure out where his head was. A small moan came from inside the blanket cocoon, and then it started moving. He popped his head out of one end of the cocoon, blinking in the light.  
“Soup?” he asked hopefully. You nodded and pointed to the end table by his couch. He eagerly grabbed it, hissing slightly as his hands touched the hot bowl.  
You smiled as you watched him eat ravenously, before turning to Clint with a frown. “Do you need some medicine?” you asked, concerned. He really looked like he was going to throw up.  
He barely nodded, the movement of his head making him more nauseous. With a worried frown, you hurried away, coming back moments later with a glass of water and an anti-nausea pill. You also scoured the kitchen for some saltine crackers.  
After the boys had finished eating, they all seemed to fall back to sleep in their respective spots. You smiled softly at the sight and turned on a baby monitor, leaving next to the TV. Your room was on the floor above this one, so you took the receiver and headed upstairs.

Taking care of five sick men had one major disadvantage. Thankfully, with your help, the Avengers were sick-free and ready to continue their lives after a few days. Unfortunately, their colds transferred to you.  
You lay in a crumbled ball beneath a mountain of blankets in your bed. You kept alternating whether your head should be above or beneath the pile. When your headache would pound and thud, you’d curl entirely under the stuffy warmth, hoping the lack of light and sound would ease your head. But it was too hot under there, so you often had to poke your face out into the open for some air.  
Your stomach also alternated on whether or not it would accept the food you tried to put in it. Steve reheated some of the leftover soup that you’d made for the boys and even tried to feed it to you when your hands were shaking too hard. But after a few spoonfuls of that, you were tripping over your own feet trying to make it to the bathroom. Steve would cringe as you emptied your stomach contents, and in a second he’d be right behind you, holding your hair back.  
He would then help you back to your bed and tuck you back in to your mountain of blankets. He ran a hand across your forehead and winced at the high temperature. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and promised to return shortly.  
He ran out to the kitchen to get a cold compress, rushing back to the room to place it over your head. You let out a sigh of relief at the cool temperature.  
“Do you think you can stomach tea?” he asked softly.  
You opened your eyes, thankful that he’d closed the curtains to block out any excess light. You offered a small nod and sat up with his help. He sat on the bed beside you, keeping one arm around your back while he handed you a mug of peppermint tea. You gently sipped the steamy liquid, tiredly leaning your head on the soldier’s shoulder. He smiled gently at the peaceful expression on your face as you began to fall asleep. He took the mug from your hands and set it on the nightstand before gently pushing you back against the pillows.  
You tiredly reached out for him, clutching his arm. “Don’t go.”  
He returned to his spot beside you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, causing you to snuggle into his side. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He continued to wait on you hand and foot until you were better. The others warned him that he’d get sick again, but he didn’t care. He wanted to take care of you. Tony teased him that now would be the perfect opportunity for some confessions of the heart, but the blond only blushed profusely and shoved the billionaire out of the room.  
“Thank you for helping,” you mumbled as you nibbled on a cracker.  
“Of course,” he smiled. “You took care of all of us; I want to return the favor.”  
Your heart fell as he said that it was just a favor. You wanted his caring gestures to mean more than that. But you plastered on a smile and took a sip of your water.  
“It was really sweet of you to take care of all of us,” he stated. “I don’t think anyone else would have put up with us all at once.”  
“I didn’t really mind,” you replied. “I like helping.”  
“See, that’s what I love about-” He stopped himself, his face paling. You turned to look at him.  
“What?” you asked softly.  
“I… I mean I…” Now or never, Captain, he thought to himself. “That’s what I love about you. You always want to help.”  
“Is that the only thing you love about me?” you whispered.  
He scooted his chair closer to the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. “No.”  
“What else?”  
“Everything. I love everything about you.”  
You stared at him in awe. The words you’d been waiting to hear– well, not exactly, but they were definitely words you wanted to hear- were finally coming out of the soldier’s mouth. He leaned closer, one hand reaching up to gently caress your face. You leaned into the touch, closing your eyes. He leaned closer, pressing his lips ever-so-softly to yours. You almost gave in before pulling back an inch.  
“I’ll get you sick again,” you warned, brows furrowed in worry.  
He chuckled softly. “Then we’ll be sick together,” he replied, leaning in again. You couldn’t even pretend to resist as you leaned against him, lips melding together like jigsaw pieces. You let out a contented sigh between kisses, your arms coming to wrap around his neck. He stood, one arm wrapped around your back and the other hooking under your knees. He held you to his chest as he lifted you out of bed, moving to take your spot. He sat down against the pillows and held you on his lap, pulling the blankets up over the both of you. You settled against his chest as he pulled away for air.  
“I love you, Steve,” you whispered.  
“I love you too, (y/n),” he smiled, running his fingers through your slightly tangled locks. His head rested on yours as his arms secured themselves around your waist. You soon fell asleep curled into his chest, your nose nuzzled into his neck.


	28. Memorial Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You spend Memorial Day with Steve

**Memorial Day**  
Request for _happyappey13_

You stood before the engraved rock, tears streaming down your face. You made no effort to hide which stone you were visiting or your reaction to the semi-annual visit. Anyone who knew you knew where you would be spending the hours leading up to your grandmother’s Memorial Day celebration. Some people thought it tasteless to host a party on a day dedicated to honoring the dead, but your grandmother believed in celebrating one’s life rather than mourning their death.  
You heard footsteps among the loose gravel that led into the cemetery and turned your head. A familiar blond with bulky muscles came through the gates, wearing his track suit. You’d seen him here every so often, usually on this day. The cemetery had carved out several corners reserved for veterans, and one specifically for the heroes that died fighting Hydra. The super soldier would always come to honor his lost comrades. He’d usually bring flowers, as he’d done today, and quietly visit each individual grave to pay his respects.  
As you knelt down before the grave stone to say your goodbyes, the tall blond caught sight of you and began walking over. You stood, wiping the remaining tears from your cheeks. You offered the soldier a small smile.  
“Hey there,” he greeted. “I’ve seen you here a lot. Seems like we have the same routine.”  
“Yeah,” you replied with a nod. “This is my grandfather’s grave. I come here every year on Memorial Day and the anniversary of his death.”  
“I’m sorry for your loss,” he commented.  
“I’ve seen you, too,” you noted. “You always visit the lost soldiers.”  
“They were like brothers,” he replied.  
An awkward silence fell over the two of you as your gaze fell to your feet. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, not knowing what to say and being too polite to walk away. You looked up at him as an idea ignited in your mind.  
“My grandmother’s hosting a Memorial Day party today,” you began, catching his interest. “I know I don’t know you very well but you’re welcome to join us. I’m sure my grandmother would love to have you.”  
He smiled softly. “That sounds nice.”  
“Really?” you replied. You hadn’t expected him to agree. “Okay, yeah! You could… ride with me?”  
He nodded. “Sure.”  
He followed you out of the cemetery to your car, getting into the passenger seat once you unlocked it.

Once at your grandmother’s house, you parked along the curb and led Steve up to the door. Though you visited her quite often, you’d been taught to knock rather than just walk in, so you pushed on the doorbell and waited. A friendly older woman opened the door with a pleasant smile, her (h/l) (h/c) (1) hair pinned back to keep from getting in the way of her baking.  
“(y/n), there you are,” she greeted, pulling you in for a hug. She stepped back and looked at the man beside you, eyes widening. “And who is this?”  
“Grandma, this is Steve Rogers,” you introduced, looking from your Grandmother to the blond.  
“Well, I’ll be,” she breathed, reaching out to shake his hand. “Captain America on my doorstep.”  
He let out a chuckle. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”  
“Just as polite as the papers say,” she smiled, standing aside. “Come in, you two.”  
Steve looked around in awe upon entering your house. Your grandmother was very into the holidays, especially when it involved honoring someone such as a birthday party or Memorial Day.  
Small American flags littered the house, a few propped up in the center of the dining room table, some sticking out of the creases of the couch, some stapled to the walls. A large rectangular cake sat on the kitchen counter, frosted perfectly to match the flags. A plate of red, white and blue frosted cookies sat on the table. The scent of grilled burgers and hot dogs wafted through the air, making your mouth water. You’d always loved barbecue. Clear glasses were placed at each chair on the dining room table, each adorned with a red, white, or blue straw. Classic Coca-Cola bottles were placed on coasters on the coffee table in the living room, along with a large glass bowl of potato chips. An apple pie sat on the counter, decorated with Cool Whip, sliced strawberries, and blueberries. (2)  
“Your house looks amazing,” the blond complimented.  
Your grandmother smiled. “Thank you, Steve. We like to go all-out with holidays.”  
You led Steve to the couch and sat down, offering him a soda. He took it with a friendly smile and popped it open, leaning back against the couch. It was nice to take a moment to relax and enjoy the day. Normally he had Avenger duties to attend to after his routine jog and visit to the cemetery. He never got to just sit down and relax. He looked at you with a grateful smile, finally stopping to think. You were a beautiful young lady, with your (h/l) (h/c) hair pulled back into a braid and your (e/c) eyes sparkling with excitement. He thought about how kind it was for you to invite him over to your party, accepting him into your home with your family. He was in awe at your friendly, loving personality, even if you’d only just met. He would much rather be here with you than at the Tower with Stark, who was probably drunk and surrounded by girls by now.  
You caught him staring and felt a blush rise to your cheeks under his gaze. “What is it? Do I have something on my face?”  
He let out a chuckle and shook his head. “No. I was just distracted.”  
“By what?” you asked, worried that he didn’t want to be there. “Are we keeping you from something? Oh, you’re busy aren’t you? I should have guessed you’d have other plans. I’m sorry if we-”  
He pressed a gentle thumb to your lips, silencing your worries. “It’s nothing like that. I like it here. I have no other obligations, nor would I rather be anywhere else.”  
“Really?” you breathed, looking up into his sky blue eyes.  
He smiled with a soft nod. He removed his hand from your mouth, moving it to caress your cheek. You leaned into his touch, eyes fluttering closed. You never imagined you’d be this close to Steve Rogers, though you’d dreamed about it.  
“This is incredibly forward of me,” he whispered, leaning closer, “but I would really like to kiss you.”  
You looked up at him, scooting forward until your noses brushed. “I’m not objecting.”  
He closed his eyes and tilted his head, using his hand on your face to pull you closer. His lips brushed yours softly, tentatively, giving you the chance to pull away. You instead responded strongly, reaching a hand up to tangle in his short blond locks. With a new bout of confidence, he pressed harder, nipping at your lower lip.  
Your grandmother came around the corner, ready to ask you to help her set something up. She saw you involved with the Captain and smiled sweetly, turning on her heel and walking away quietly.  
You pulled away for air, resting your forehead on his. You looked up to meet his eyes, smiling softly.  
“Thank you,” he whispered.  
“What for?” you asked, brows furrowing in confusion.  
“For making today wonderful,” he smiled.  
You let out a giggle as he pulled you in for another kiss.

(1) This doesn’t mean your hair length and color, just that you get to make it up.  
(2) I Google Image searched “Memorial Day party” and took ideas from the pictures.


	29. Heating Pads and Chocolate Bars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve comforts you during that time of the month

**Heating Pads and Chocolate Bars**  
Request for _M.J.Ellis_  
 **A/N:** I don’t think I’ve ever done a “that time of the month” story. I think I could have done a lot better. I didn’t really get into it as much as I thought I would.

An agonized groan escaped through your gritted teeth as you curled tighter into yourself. Your arms were wrapped tightly around your midsection, securing the heating pad that was currently attempting to soothe your symptoms. It hadn’t made much progress so far, and neither had the half-empty bottle of Tylenol sitting on the coffee table. The insides of your lower abdomen felt like they were tying themselves in knots and then ripping themselves apart.  
Steve’s brows furrowed in concern as he returned to your side with a steaming mug of green tea and a bar of (f/type) chocolate. He helped you sit, keeping you tucked into your blankets and making sure that the heating pad hadn’t turned itself off. You gratefully accepted the chocolate bar while he set the tea on the coffee table. You ripped open the paper packaging while he knelt down before the couch.  
“Is it always like this?” he asked, running a hand over your knee.  
“Just for the first few days,” you assured him, taking a bite out of the bar. “Mother Nature likes to make us suffer.”  
“That’s not nice,” he stated with a pout.  
You let out a giggle before your features contorted in pain as another cramp twisted your insides. “I think I’m gonna take a bath.”  
He nodded and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll go start it for you.”

A few minutes later, the bath tub was full of hot water and bubbles. Steve even added a cup of Epsom salts to help you relax. You reluctantly removed the heating pad and pile of blankets from your belly, preparing to rise to your feet. The blond returned to the living room and wrapped an arm around your back, dipping you backwards so he could hook his other arm under your knees.  
“Steve, I can still walk,” you said with a smile, wrapping your arms around his neck.  
“Let me pamper you,” he insisted, holding you against his chest as he made his way to the bathroom. You were already wrapped in a fluffy robe, having decided to be comfy while you were curled up in pain. You still wore your bra and panties beneath the robe, uncomfortable with being naked under your robe.  
He set you down on the cold tile, kissing you briefly before leaving you in peace. You shrugged off your robe and slipped out of your undergarments, stepped into the steaming water. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you slid down, leaning back against the smooth wall of the tub. Your (h/l) (h/c) hair was pinned into a bun at the top of your head, keeping it from getting wet.  
Steve knocked on the door politely before opening it. Though you two were an intimate couple, he was very considerate and offered you privacy as much as he could. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable by ogling your naked body, so he only looked at you when you were submerged under the bubbly water.  
“I brought your tea,” he stated, setting the mug and chocolate bar on the upside down basket sitting beside the edge of the tub.  
“Thank you,” you smiled sweetly. He leaned down, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips.  
“Do you need anything else?” he asked, standing to leave.  
“Could you stay with me?” you requested. He smiled and nodded, turning around and disrobing. He stepped into the tub behind you, his legs stretching out on either side of yours and wrapping his arms around your waist. You leaned back against his warm chest, turning so you could bury your face in his neck. He used one hand to card his fingers through your hair. You closed your eyes, sighing contently.  
Steve always took such good care of you. He opened doors for you, pulled out chairs, paid for your dates. He was a gentleman at every given opportunity. He made you meals and waited on you hand and foot. You constantly reminded him that you could take care of yourself and insisted that he didn’t need to pamper you, but he would reply that he enjoyed treating you like a princess. He believed that men should respect and love their women, so he hardly got mad at you for anything.

When the air chilled the bath water and it was no longer soothing, you let out a yawn and a stretch. You turned to look up at Steve, pressing a kiss to his cheek.  
He smiled and pecked your nose. “Ready to get out?”  
You nodded, smiling as he wrapped his arms around you and stood with you cradled against his chest. He set you on the floor and handed you a towel to wrap around yourself. He dried himself off and lifted you into his arms again, carrying you into the bedroom and laying you on the bed. He brought you your robe so you could wrap up in it before snuggling back into your blankets. He slipped on a pair of pajama pants before climbing into bed beside you. He slid one arm beneath your head to act as a pillow, resting the other on your belly. You curled into his chest, burrowing your face into his neck. His warm hand began moving in soft circles, gently rubbing away the knots in your abdomen. You let out a hum and whispered a soft “I love you” before slipping into unconsciousness.  
“I love you too,” he returned, kissing your head and closing his eyes.


	30. It Takes Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You give birth to Steve's baby

**It Takes Two**  
Request for _not as insane_

An agonized cry escaped your lungs as you threw your head back like an exorcised demon. Your knuckles turned white from how hard you were gripping the sheets of the hospital bed beneath you. Sweat poured down your face, causing the blond beside you to reach out with a washrag and dab it away. In between screams you gritted your teeth, trying to focus on anything besides the pain between your legs.  
“Almost there,” Steve whispered encouragingly. “You’re almost done, honey.”  
When you finally pushed not one but two human beings out of your body, your muscles collapsed and your jaw hung open with heavy pants. Your body slacked against the soaking wet sheets as you closed your eyes, trying to catch your breath.  
“I can’t believe it,” Steve breathed.

_“I can’t believe it,” Steve breathed._

_You’d been sick for the past week with no explanation. You didn’t have any other symptoms of a cold or the flu, and when your stomach wasn’t tying itself in knots, you could go about your daily activities. But several times throughout the day, you’d be reduced to curling up on your bed with a heating pad pressed to your belly, or on your knees in front of the toilet or sink, emptying whatever contents made it to your stomach. You didn’t manage to eat much, only being able to hold down some water and Saltine crackers. Steve was by your side every second, worrying frantically like a mother hen. He would run to the store- literally run- to fetch you more Pepto Bismol or Ginger Ale. He’d cook you chicken noodle soup, though that ended up in the bucket beside your bed before you could digest it. He’d bring you water and tea and crackers, desperately hoping you’d feel better. He insisted that you go see a doctor, but you insisted in return that it was just a bug and would go away after a few days.  
You finally caved and let him take you to the doctor. You kept a hot water bottle against your abdomen the entire ride there, your seat leaned all the way back so you could lay down and relax. Once there, he waited anxiously in the waiting room as you were seen. The doctor took blood and urine tests and left you fidgeting in the examiner’s room while they awaited results.  
When they finally came back, the doctor was smiling softly. “You have nothing to worry about, (y/n),” she said. “You’re pregnant.”  
The news ignited like a firework, causing you to sit and stare at the wall. When you finally regained composure, you practically ran out to the waiting room.  
“What is it?” Steve asked, worried.  
“I’m pregnant,” you blurted out with a giggle. He stared at you, glancing to the doctor for confirmation. When she nodded, he wrapped his arms around you.  
“I can’t believe it,” he breathed. He then lifted you into the air with a grin, eliciting another giggle from you. He spun you around, much to the amusement of the staff. “I can’t believe it!”_

“Congratulations,” the nurse smiled, placing one pink-wrapped bundle in your arms. “Two beautiful, healthy girls.”  
You looked up at Steve who was cradling the other child. His nose was pressed to her forehead as he cooed softly. You smiled at the sight before pressing a kiss to the forehead of the baby in your arms.  
“Have you decided on names?” the nurse asked, holding the paperwork for their birth certificates.

_“Have you decided on names?” Tony asked, pouring himself a drink. You and Steve told the team just a few days after you found out, and now that you were six months old and had learned the gender- ahem, genders- they insisted on throwing you a baby shower. It had originally just been Pepper, Maria, Wanda, and Natasha, but since you didn’t have many more female friends, they all agreed to let the men come too. Plus, they figured that Tony would want to spoil the children with gifts, and the others could behave themselves well enough for one night.  
“We decided that we’ll each name one,” you said. “I like (f/girl/n), with (girl/n) for her middle name.”  
“I chose (girl/n) and (girl/n) for the middle name,” Steve smiled, wrapping an arm around you.  
“Those are beautiful names!” Pepper gushed. “Your babies are going to be so cute.”  
“Are you ready for two of them?” Nat asked. “One baby is too much for some people.”  
“It’s a little scary, but I think we can do it,” you admitted. You turned to smile up at Steve. “I think a super soldier can help me take care of twins.”  
He nodded enthusiastically, pressing a kiss to your head. “I’ll be there every step of the way.”  
“You can always ask us for help, too,” Pepper said.  
“I would like to help,” Wanda offered.  
“I’ll be happy to help with checkups, make sure they’re doing alright,” Bruce added.  
“Thanks, guys,” you smiled, your increased hormones forming tears in your eyes. You absent-mindedly rubbed your belly as Maria cut the baby shower cake._

You told the nurse both of the girls’ full names, smiling up at Steve. You scooted over on the bed to make room for him and (girl/n). You let out a contented sigh and rested your head on his shoulder.  
“I love you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your sweaty brow.  
“I love you too,” you replied, lifting your head to meet his eyes. He leaned in for a kiss, gently pressing his lips to yours. You replied tiredly, letting out a yawn when you parted. He chuckled and propped (girl/n) up with one arm, wrapping the other around your back. You snuggled against his side and fell asleep.


	31. A Whole New World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve saves you from Hydra

**A Whole New World**  
Request for _Ashley_  
 **A/N:** Co-written by Blossom.

 

Sometimes life with self-healing powers could be hard, with people questioning your abilities or scoffing and calling you a liar. Hydra had provided you with your powers by kidnapping you and running experimental tests.  
You couldn’t control your self-healing. It wasn’t like wielding fire or changing shape. When your body sustained injury, it immediately began working on overdrive to fix the problem.  
It was a rare night when you stayed extremely late at work, and tonight was one of them. You began to walk back to your small apartment, and let down your self-healing powers were calmed as the streets were quiet.  
Too quiet.  
You scrambled into the bottom of your purse, finding your (f/c) earphones and plugging them into the jack your phone. Walking along the pavement humming your favorite tune took up a lot of your attention, so it caught you by surprise when you were grabbed roughly and thrown against a brick wall with a blade to your throat.  
"It's her. Hey, Hydra's little bunny," the man with the blade grinned. You didn't dare move.  
"Aren't you going to speak, sweetheart?" the other male grinned. You gulped.  
"I don't have anything to say," you growled. The man shrugged, taking the blade from your neck and running it down your arm. You winced, falling to the ground. It healed quickly, which only angered the men further. They kicked your stomach, winding you, before running the blade down your other arm. Unfortunately, the more serious the injury, the longer it took to heal. The blade had run too deep into your arm, and it was very slowly pulling itself back together.  
The men ran when a voice yelled, nearing. You looked up, seeing a blond, muscular figure towering over you.  
"Are you alright, ma’am?" he asked, pulling you up. You stared into his blue eyes.  
"Y-yeah. I'm (Y/N), by the way," you smiled, holding out your hand.  
"Steve Rogers," he replied with a friendly smile, shaking your hand.  
Your eyes widened. “Steve Rogers? Captain America?”  
He chuckled. “The very same. How’s your arm?”  
You looked down and grimaced. The gash was deeper than you realized; it still wasn’t fully healed. “It’ll be fine. I have self-healing.”  
It was his turn to be surprised. “Really? That’s fascinating.”  
He offered to walk you home, which you gratefully accepted. Having a big strong bodyguard made you feel better about being outside so late. You continued talking about special powers and Hydra’s experiments. He was the only one who could fully understand, besides his friend Bucky. He worried over you; those men were just the beginning. If Hydra wanted you, Hydra would find you. Next time they would send more men with bigger weapons. Too many severe wounds at once would render your powers virtually useless.  
When you reached your apartment, he turned to face you. “You know, working for SHIELD could be a great application of your skills. And they could protect you from Hydra’s soldiers. It would take forever for them to find you, and you’d have all of SHIELD plus the Avengers to help fight them off.”  
“Are you offering me a job or a shelter?” you asked half teasingly.  
“Both,” he replied. “I’d hate to see them get to you.”  
You nibbled your lip in thought. “Protection does sound nice. And I need a new job.”  
He beamed. “Great. I’ll pick you up tomorrow, show you around?”  
“Sounds good,” you smiled. He gently grabbed your hand and pressed a kiss to the knuckles, causing you to blush.  
“Goodnight, (y/n),” he said.  
“Goodnight,” you whispered.

When you woke the next morning, you were terrified. Today was the day Steve showed you around SHIELD. You slowly began to change into a white shirt, black pencil skirt and black tights. You pulled your hair into a bun and slipped on your shoes before standing and waiting in your living room. You hoped you looked professional enough.  
Steve arrived at eight a.m. on the dot, and you opened the door with a beaming smile.  
"You look lovely, ma'am," Steve smiled.  
"Thank you," you replied with a blush. You both stood and gazed into each other's eyes for a moment before Steve spoke up.  
"Shall we go then?" He held out an arm for you to take. You grabbed your bag and locked the front door before taking Steve's arm.  
"You were right, you have healed," Steve smiled. You giggled in reply, continuing to walk.

Your tour at SHIELD was almost over, you just had to meet Director Fury. Steve led you to Fury’s office where he was seated at his desk. You took a seat at the opposite end of the table.  
"Ah, Miss (L/N). Steve has been telling me all about you," Fury stated.  
"Good things I hope," you replied nervously. Fury chuckled. He asked you a few more questions before looking at Steve.  
"You were right, Steve. She is a real character. I don't see why she can't work here. Welcome to the team, Agent (L/N)," Fury smiled.  
"Thank you so much! I won't let you down!" you promised before you left.  
"Congratulations!" Steve said, pulling you into a hug. You stared up into his eyes, and he leaned forwards, closing the gap between you. His lips ghosted over yours.  
"I've wanted to do this since I met you," he mumbled, locking his lips to yours. You were shocked at first, but after a few moments you melted into the kiss, holding your hands against Steve's chest, his hands tangling in your hair. He pulled back a few minutes later for air.  
"I love you, Agent (L/N)," he smiled.  
"I love you too, Mr. Rogers."


	32. I Didn't Know I Loved You So Much

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve blames himself when you get hurt

**I Didn’t Know I Loved You So Much**  
Request for _Guest_

This was exactly why Steve was so adamant about you staying in the Tower where you were safe and not coming into the fight with them. He knew something would happen. He knew you would get hurt. And he knew that he wouldn’t have time to save you.

An alarm had sounded in SHIELD headquarters, signaling the invasion of Hydra soldiers. The Avengers, along with a few field agents, immediately suited up and readied their weapons. They all boarded one of SHIELD’s jets and flew down to the town square where the army was shooting up buildings and cars. As a SHIELD record keeper, your instructions were to stay put inside the base and keep an eye on the battlefield.  
You were exceptionally good at not following orders.  
Fearing for the lives of your friends and secret love interest, you strapped a handgun to your hip that you luckily knew how to fire and headed out into the chaos. You managed to shoot down a few soldiers and save a few civilians before you were struck from behind. Several bullets blasted through your torso, rendering your body completely useless as it tumbled to the ground. You faintly heard Steve shout your name in a broken voice before heavy footsteps ran your way.  
Strong arms lifted you up bridal style and cradled you against a muscled chest. He pressed kisses to your hair while whispering “No” over and over.  
“You can’t leave me,” he said, his voice cracking. “Come on, (y/n). You’ll be okay. Just keep your eyes open.”  
“S-Steve,” you choked, blood dribbling out of your mouth and down your chin. “Steve, I-”  
“No, don’t say anything,” he argued, shaking his head. “You’re gonna get through this.”  
You reached up shakily and touched his jaw. “Steve, I love you, okay? Remember that.”  
“I love you too, (y/n),” he managed to whisper as tears flooded out of his eyes. You heard him cry out your name again before the world faded to black.

Three weeks. It had been three weeks since he carried you to the infirmary. Three weeks and not a single word on your condition.  
No, there was one word. Stable. You were stable.  
What did that even mean, stable? Were you hurt? Were you okay? Were you going to live?  
Steve rarely left your bedside. The others tried to get him to take a break, to eat or sleep or just do anything besides sitting there watching you breathe.  
All he could do was stare blankly at the rise and fall of your chest. Maybe if he hadn’t been such a coward and told you how he felt earlier, you could have at least been a couple. Maybe if you’d been his girlfriend, you would have understood his concern and stayed in the Tower instead of trying to fight. But wouldn’t it hurt more to lose you as a loved one instead of just a friend?  
Regardless, he was a coward. He should have told you sooner.

“None of this is your fault, Steve,” Natasha stated, leaning against the doorframe that led into your hospital room.  
The blond didn’t reply. He’d heard it all before. “It’s not your fault.” “There’s nothing you could have done.” “She’ll be okay.”  
None of it made him feel better. None of it took away the guilt he felt for letting you fall.  
How could he feel anything but guilt and regret as he watched you lie unconscious in your hospital bed? You could die in this room. Any minute, your heart rate could flat line, and all he’d be able to do would be to sit idly by, just as he’d done when you’d been shot. He wasn’t any more useful in here than he’d been during the fight. Maybe he should leave…  
“Come on, Rogers,” Tony called from the doorway. “We’re all going out for dinner.”  
“I’m not hungry,” the blond mumbled.  
“He speaks!” the billionaire teased. “It’s not optional. Come on. We’re all going. You need a break.”  
He shuffled into the room and wrapped his arms around Steve’s torso, lifting him from the chair he might as well have been glued to. With some difficulty as the soldier was much bulkier than the playboy, Tony managed to drag him out of the room and into the hallway where Thor assisted in carrying him outside. They all piled into one of SHIELD’s SUVs and headed out to the restaurant.

A couple of hours later, a soft breath slid from your lips as your eyes fluttered. After a few tries you managed to open them, slowly looking around the room. Your eyes were glazed over from so much sleep, so you blinked profusely to clear your vision. Once you could make out the details of the room, you realized you were in the infirmary. You groaned softly, catching the attention of the nurse checking your stats a few feet away.  
“Oh my,” she breathed, resting a hand over her heart. “Thank God you made it. The Avengers have been so worried.”  
“Steve,” you mumbled brokenly, eyes fluttering closed again. Every bone and muscle in your body was thick from sleep. You tried to twitch your fingers or lick your lips, wondering if you’d be able to sit up.  
“Oh!” the nurse replied. “I’ll go get him!”

The team had just returned from dinner, but Steve’s sullen expression had remained. His friends had nearly given up on trying to lift his dreary mood. Nothing would help him, except-  
“Mr. Rogers!” the nurse called excitedly.  
Steve turned to her with a raised brow, which was more emotion than he’d shown in days.  
“She’s asking for you,” the nurse panted, having run all the way from the infirmary to the door.  
Steve’s eyes lit up. You were awake? And asking for him? Without a word, he bolted past the nurse, headed for your room.  
He lingered in the doorway, awestruck at the fact that you were alive and awake. You’d managed to sit up with the help of another nurse. You were propped up against some pillows, stretching your arms out in front of you to regain feeling in them.  
He softly padded into the room and reclaimed his chair by your bed. “Hey, (y/n).”  
“Hey, Steve,” you smiled. “I don’t think I ever thanked you for saving me.”  
He offered you a broken smile. “It was the least I could do. I couldn’t handle watching you die.”  
“But I’m not dead,” you reminded. “And it’s all because of you.”  
He stared down at his lap as an awkward silence fell over the two of you.  
“Did you mean it?” you asked softly.  
He looked up at you, quirking his head cutely.  
“Do you really love me? Or was it just a dying moment thing?” you clarified.  
His brows furrowed, hurt that you could think he didn’t mean it. “I do love you, (y/n). I just hate that I was a coward and didn’t tell you until I thought I lost you. I should have said something sooner.”  
“You should have,” you agreed. “But as I said, I didn’t die. So… you could say something now…”  
He smiled and moved to sit on the edge of your bed. He took your hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles. “(y/n), I’ve loved you since we met. Would you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?”  
“Steve,” you blushed, squeezing his hands. “Of course I will.”  
With a beaming smile, he leaned in to press his lips to yours. As you returned the kiss passionately, you didn’t notice that the team all lingered in the doorway, watching the confessions unfold.


	33. American Idiot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve walks in on you singing Green Day

**American Idiot**  
Request for _The Unforgiven Follows Back_  
 **A/N:** Swearing because song lyrics. I know the song but I Googled the lyrics just to be sure, and there are some words that seem to differ depending on the website, so I used the ones I heard in the song. I added numbers by the words that differed just so you know. I’m not asking for answers, because I don’t care, but I’m letting you know.

“Don’t wanna be an American idiot!”

Steve loved watching you sing and dance along to blaring music. He loved watching the way you swayed your hips with every step or shook your head along with the beat. He would swear he’d never seen you so happy as when you were rocking out to your favorite song.

“Don’t want a nation under the new media!” (1)

You often plugged your phone or iPod into your favorite speakers perched on the kitchen counter when you got ready to cook. It helped you relax, and you danced around the kitchen to gather ingredients. Steve would often saunter quietly into the room when he was home and watch you enjoy yourself. Sometimes he was out and would come home just in time to hear your melodic voice carrying over the song.

“And can you hear the sound of hysteria?”

It was always your favorite song, which seemed to change week to week. Last week it was Taylor Swift’s “Shake It Off,” and before that had been Maroon 5’s “One More Night.” Steve never paid much attention to the lyrics, just to your pure happiness and enjoyment. He was half sure he’d sit and listen to Eminem if he got to watch you wiggle your hips and sashay around the room.

“The subliminal mind fuck America!”

As a proper gentleman, he wasn’t fond of swearing. He’d been caught saying “crap” or “damn” and the team would always tease him, but you liked his polite nature. He realized that he didn’t much mind it in music, especially if you were singing along. He loved your voice, especially since you didn’t sing very often, so he was willing to put up with just about any song so he could hear you sing. You were self-conscious about your singing, though he constantly told you how beautiful your voice was and how badly he wanted you to just sing to him. He always thought that if he had to die that day, he’d want the last thing he heard to be you singing your favorite song.

“Welcome to a new kind of tension, all across the alien nation, everything isn’t meant to be okay.” (2)

Some of your songs were slow or sad. You’d gone through a phase of slow-dancing love songs, and though he knew you still enjoyed them and he still enjoyed listening, he preferred watching you dance to happy, upbeat music. One of your favorites used to be “Ghost of a Rose” by Blackmore’s Night, and for a while you really enjoyed “Brothers” by Vic Mignogna. They were slow and elegant sounds, the kind where you would just sit and sing as though you were soothing a crying child with a soft, melodic noise. There was a lot less dancing when your favorite song was soft and sweet, but Steve loved hearing you sing nonetheless.

“Television dreams of tomorrow, we’re not the ones who’re meant to follow, well that’s enough to argue.”

A lot of times, you liked songs with meaning. That was why you went with softer, slower, lovey songs, or songs about loss or family. You enjoyed listening carefully to the lyrics and understanding the circumstances within the music. You enjoyed party music too, with a rhythm you could dance to. But when you were in your room relaxing, you could often be heard singing a soft song about long-lived romance.

“Well maybe I’m the faggot America.”

You cooked more often than not. It helped you de-stress and it made you happy to see the relief on Steve’s face when he came home from a day with the Avengers and saw that you had a hot meal waiting on the stove.

“I’m not a part of a redneck agenda.”

If he gave you an exact time, you’d make sure dinner was all done, plated up, and set elegantly on the table with place settings and drink glasses and a bottle of soda or juice on the table. You liked to get fancy and have everything prepared for your super soldier. He always told you that you didn’t need to go the extra mile, but you liked to.

“Now everybody do the propaganda.”

You used to do that only on special occasions, such as anniversaries or birthdays. You knew he preferred a home cooked meal over a fancy restaurant, and though he still tried to take you out, you preferred the same. You eventually decided that you could go out to dinner or a movie for date night, but special occasions would be spent relaxing in one another’s arms at home.

“And sing along in the age of paranoia.”

When he started working more, having to meet with SHIELD and the Avengers and run missions, you saw less of him, so fancy dinners with candles and music began happening more often. He still insisted that you needn’t go through the trouble, but you liked setting up the table and the lighting and making it romantic. Some couples liked to go out and party to spend time with each other, but you and Steve preferred to stay home and watch an old movie after dinner.

Steve decided to surprise you by coming home early. He told you he wouldn’t be off until after seven, so you hadn’t started dinner until a little after six. You were sliding around the kitchen in your fuzzy socks, dancing to your new favorite song when he came inside unannounced.  
“Don’t wanna be an American idiot!”  
He raised a concerned brow as he closed the door and kicked off his boots. He hadn’t heard this song before.  
“One nation controlled by the media,” you sang along, swaying your hips to the drum beat.  
He set his bag down by the front door and turned the corner to see you dancing around the kitchen, completely oblivious to his early return.  
“Information age of hysteria, we’re calling out to idiot America,” you continued, spinning on your heel and turning around. You nearly fell backwards in surprise before a grin broke out on your face. “Steve!”  
He laughed as you ran forward, launching into his arms. He held you by your waist, kissing you sweetly. “Hey honey.”  
“I thought you weren’t coming home until after seven,” you stated, looking up at him in confusion.  
“I thought I’d surprise you and come home early,” he smiled. “Dinner smells amazing. What is it?”  
“Fried chicken and mashed potatoes,” you replied with a grin. “Your favorite.”  
He smiled softly at you, releasing your hips so you could return to cooking. The song continued, as did your swinging. His brows furrowed in concern as he looked at you. “This doesn’t sound like a very nice song.”  
“What are you talking about?” you asked without looking at him. Realization hit you and you let out a giggle, remembering his high sense of patriotism. “It’s just a song, love. It’s not mean.”  
“‘Idiot America’?” he repeated.  
You giggled louder, plating up dinner and turning off the burners on the stove. “It’s not meant to be mean to America,” you said in a reassuring tone. “It’s just a song about how a lot of people believe everything they see in the media, like on TV and in magazines. A lot of people have blind faith and if they read it online or in a paper, they think it’s one hundred percent true.”  
He nodded in understanding, getting out plates and silverware and setting the table. “I suppose that makes sense.”  
You smiled softly. “I won’t listen to it if it makes you uncomfortable.”  
He shook his head and sat down. “It’s just a song, and you seem to really like it.”  
“It’s just a song,” you repeated, reaching out to grasp his hand. He lifted your hand to his mouth and kissed the knuckles. You leaned forward, tilting your head up. He chuckled in reply before closing the gap and capturing your lips with his.

 

(1) Media/mania  
(2) Alien nation/alienation, everything/where everything


	34. The Sorcerer's Stone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Steve have a Harry Potter marathon

**The Sorcerer’s Stone**  
Request for _Emma_  
 **A/N:** My little brother was in the middle of Prisoner of Azkaban when I started writing.  
I got really stuck on how to start this one but it was really fun once I got going.

“Harry Potter marathon.”

That was all the warning Steve got before you practically dragged him to the couch and forced him to sit down before fetching all eight movies from your personal collection and getting them ready. You turned on the TV and DVD player and grabbed both remotes, inserting the disc for the first movie before excitedly sitting beside Steve. You’d already gathered snacks – soda cans, a bowl of popcorn, a plate of cookies, and a large bag of chips were placed on the coffee table in front of the couch you and Steve were sitting on. The two of you lived together and shared a room, and you enjoyed cuddling in bed to watch movies, but the only flat surface was the nightstand, so movie nights were easier done in the living room where you had the coffee table for snacks or foot rests. Plus, it was closer to the kitchen in case snacks ran out.

You whistled along with the opening music, earning a chuckle from the blond. He knew they were your favorite movies, but he didn’t know you memorized the tune.  
Your eyes glued to the screen as the movie began. Steve’s lips twitched into an amused smile when he looked over at you. He knew very little of what the movie was about, but he didn’t much care. It could have been praising Hitler and he would still watch it if it made you this happy.  
“‘Yer a wizard, Harry’,” you quoted quietly. Steve tilted his head at the character.  
“You didn’t tell me there were giants in this movie.”  
You let out a giggle and clung to his arm, quoting here and there.  
By the end, he was staring wide-eyed at the screen, trying to absorb all of the magic and creatures and blood endured by an eleven year old boy.  
“Ready for the second one?” you asked excitedly. He let out a chuckle and nodded, offering to refill the popcorn while you got it ready.

You’d seen the second one more times than the first, and you knew which scenes were your favorite parts. You booed dramatically when Lockhart came on the screen, sticking your tongue out childishly. He raised a brow and continued watching, eventually learning why you disliked him.  
“This Draco kid seems like a bully,” the blond commented. “And why does he look exactly like his father?”  
“He’s the antagonist; he’s supposed to be a bully,” you replied. “And family members in this movie look alike.”  
He nodded in understanding as the movie continued.  
“Is that blood?” he whispered when the writing on the wall was discovered. You looked up at him, waiting for his reaction when the characters figured it out. A small pout formed on his lips when he saw the cat hanging on the wall, but he let out a sigh of relief upon that learning that she wasn't dead, only petrified. It amused you how emotional he was getting.  
Halfway through, when Harry and Ron began walking through the forest, you clung to Steve’s arm and hid your face in his shirt. He looked down at you in confusion – you’d never mentioned being afraid of your favorite films. A deep voice coming from the screen caused him to look up, and he nearly jumped at the close up of a furry arachnid.  
“You didn’t tell me there were giant spiders in this movie,” he grumbled. He would have definitely appreciated some warning on that one. Still, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and tugged you close to his body. He would always protect you.

By the third movie he was getting used to the fact that Harry Potter was filmed with illogical circumstances and unheard of creatures, and a talking shrunken head handing from the rearview mirror of a double decker bus didn’t really faze him. Being the honest man he was, he might admit to jumping in his seat when Harry tried to pry open the monster book and it nearly ate him before scuffling away under his bed.  
“You’re not allowed to buy books like that,” he stated, eliciting a laugh from you.  
When you came to the boggart (1) scene, you curled behind his arm again. He raised a confused brow, turning his attention back to Severus Snape in drag. He stared blankly at the screen as Snape morphed into a large black widow spider, and he understood your reaction. He pressed a kiss to your head, wondering how on Earth a black widow spider on roller blades was considered funny. It was still an ungodly large spider – that was scary with or without wheels. Perhaps it was scarier with wheels, because wheels make things move faster. (2)  
He decided that Prisoner of Azkaban made his head hurt. Time travel was confusing enough, but adding all of Harry’s family drama made Steve lose sight of the entire movie. He didn’t know if Sirius Black was still meant to be the bad guy, or if his being Harry’s godfather exempted him. You simply giggled when he asked you questions, so he let out a dramatic huff and continued watching.

He hadn’t been aware of just how long it took to watch all eight Harry Potter movies when he agreed to this adventure. By Order of the Phoenix, he was ready to fall asleep. You opted for a ten minute break to get coffee and use the bathroom, hoping to wake yourselves up so you could make it through the second half of the marathon. You asked if he was alright, if he enjoyed the movies, if he was sure he wanted to continue watching them. He pulled you into his arms and kissed you lovingly before smiling and nodding. He was tired, but watching movies was relaxing, and he’d do anything to see you so happy.

“Umbridge is awful!” he exclaimed in honest surprise. She was a nightmare in pink, and it almost hurt his eyes with the intense detail of your flat screen TV. He held you closer during this movie, as though he felt the characters’ pain and was trying to use you as comfort. You simply smiled and shifted until you were seated on his lap, his head on your chest and your head resting on his while you ran your fingers through his short blond hair.  
“How could she do that?” he asked with hurt in his voice. He watched in horror as Harry’s punishment sentences carved themselves into his arm. “I’m glad punishment like that doesn’t exist.”  
You smiled at him. He was such a kind soul; you almost felt like you were corrupting his innocence by making him watch the saga.

He made it through the entire eight movies, though his eyes began to droop as the final movie ended. Deciding that neither of you were awake enough to make it to your bedroom, you both curled up on the couch. You managed to crawl to the wall and switch off the light, and you used the remotes to turn off the TV and DVD player. Steve lay stretched out on the couch, one leg propped up on the arm, the other resting gently on the floor. You smiled before laying on his front, your head in the crook of his neck and your arms at his sides. Upon feeling your warmth, he smiled tiredly and wrapped his arms snuggly around your back, bringing his dangling leg up to wrap around yours and keep you close. You smiled into his skin and let out a soft yawn, drifting into unconsciousness.  
You exchanged goodnight murmurs, and the last thing you said before falling asleep was, “The Hobbit next weekend?” 

 

(1) I didn’t know that was a real word.  
(2) My personal thoughts.


	35. Shut Up and Kiss Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You like spontaneously kissing Steve

**Shut Up and Kiss Me**  
Request for _Mercy the Guardian of Peace_

You grew up to be a fan of Captain America. Your parents always talked about his astonishing achievements and patriotic deeds, and their cousin Howard Stark always told them what an amazing man he was. You had always wanted to meet him, but given that you were from different times, you figured your chance was lost.  
When he was discovered in the ice, still alive, you were ecstatic. He was alive and in New York, so all you had to do was find some excuse to meet him.  
Before too long, he was recruited for the Avengers. Surprisingly enough, your second cousin Tony was also recruited. Most of your immediate family had died by the time you reached adulthood, so you showed up at Stark Tower completely unannounced and introduced yourself as Tony Stark’s second cousin.  
Deciding that you had enough spunk and attitude to be related to him, Tony happily welcomed you inside and introduced you to the team. You were excited to meet the famous Avengers, but your heart stopped when you stood just a few inches away from Steve “Captain America” Rogers. He offered his hand for you to shake, a friendly smile on his lips. Years of stories about his good nature and pure heart had made you develop a bit of a celebrity crush on the blond, and instead of accepting his hand, you fisted your hands in his shirt, pulled him down to your level, and crashed your lips to his.  
His eyes widened in surprise and his cheeks shifted to the color of a tomato. Gasps mingled with cheers flowed throughout the room. Tony wasn’t sure what to think, given that you were apparently related.  
When you pulled away, you stared up at him, wide-eyed in surprise by your own actions. He stared down at you, showing no sign of disliking the kiss but making no move to do it again. You lowered yourself back onto the floor, having had to stand on your tip-toes to reach him, and regained your composure. You turned to Tony, pretending as though you hadn’t just kissed his teammate, and smiled. “How about that tour?”

For the next week or two, cheers and wolf whistles greeted you when you walked into a room at the Tower. Steve would blush profusely and quickly find an excuse to leave the room, but you simply smirked and continued on with what you were doing. You knew you should have been embarrassed, just waltzing up and kissing Captain America. But you felt a sense of pride for not backing down from your desires, and the team certainly loved you for it.  
You stood in the kitchen, pouring yourself a cup of coffee. Natasha and Clint were already in the kitchen and had greeted you with applause. You offered a mock bow in reply, causing them to laugh before you proceeded to get coffee.  
“Good morning, Mrs. Rogers,” Tony teased as he entered the room. You let out a laugh, trying to deny the blush you knew was staining your cheeks.  
“Is that a blush I see?” Clint taunted, leaning in close as you turned your head away. “I think she likes Mr. Rogers.”  
“Is Mrs. Rogers in love?” Tony teased, making kissy faces at you. You shoved him away with a hand, joining Nat at the table so you could enjoy your coffee.  
Steve sauntered into the room, causing Clint and Tony to erupt in cat calls. You rolled your eyes, offering the soldier an apologetic glance when you saw his embarrassed expression.  
You had kind of made a habit of kissing him in one way or another whenever you left the room, but the poor soldier seemed so awkward standing in the room now.  
Having finished your coffee, you stood and set the mug in the sink. Tony had gone back to his room and Clint was reading the paper. Deciding that your audience was distracted enough, you stood on your tiptoes and placed a hand on his cheek, stretching up so you could press a kiss to his other cheek. He looked at you softly, seeming to enjoy your gentle affection. You smiled at him before padding down the hallway to your room.  
Without looking up from the paper, Clint asked, “She did it again, didn’t she?”

Steve decided to retaliate.  
You were all hanging out in one of the rec rooms, laughing and drinking and enjoying yourselves. You were seated at the end of one couch, sipping on an iced tea and listening to a story of one of Tony’s one night stands ending badly. Offended that Tony sent her away the next morning, she came back a week later and told him that she was pregnant. She let him panic for about a month before telling him that it had just been a joke. You couldn’t help but root for the poor girl. Tony seemed like he needed to be knocked down a peg.  
Unbeknownst to you, Steve had been talking to Tony, Clint, and Bruce about your kissing habit. He very much enjoyed feeling your lips on his skin, but he felt so inappropriate about how improper your relationship started. He really liked you, having gotten to know you in the last few weeks. He wanted to be more.  
You hadn’t noticed his arrival until Pepper wolf-whistled at his attire. He was wearing a fitted suit with a royal blue tie that accented his eyes beautifully. You looked up and raised a brow in approval. Somewhere in your mind you wondered why he had gotten so dressed up. You glanced at Clint as he sat down, cautious about the wide smirk on his lips.  
A hand appeared from beside you, causing you to look up at Steve. He seemed to want you to stand. You turned to Nat with a raised brow before accepting his hand and standing, only reaching his shoulder.  
“Steve?” you asked softly. “Are you o-”  
He cut you off by crashing his lips to yours. His hands found your waist, pulling your body against his. You faltered before quickly responding, resting your hands on his chest. You ignored the cheers coming from the rest of the team, focusing only on the blond attached to your lips.

That became your “thing.” You would immediately greet each other with a kiss. He was sweeter, more gentlemanly about it. When you were in the kitchen with your morning coffee, he would saunter in and press a gentle kiss to your lips. You were more showy, usually to get a rise out of the others. If you saw him sitting down, talking to one of the Avengers, you’d straddle his lap and kiss him with as much passion as you could muster. It usually embarrassed him more than anything else, but what really got a response was when he would pull you back onto his lap after you tried to get up and kiss you again.


	36. Who Says You Can't Go Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve is unpleasantly surprised by your wings

**Who Says You Can’t Go Home?**  
Request for _Megan the Dancing Bean_  
 **A/N:** Co-written by Blossom.

You had lived in the Avengers tower for a few months now, after Clint found you freezing, soaked, and hungry on the streets after being kicked out of your flat by your landlord. You had supposedly not been keeping up your payments, but you knew that was a load of rubbish.  
But there was a lot the Avengers didn't know about you, as you tended to keep to yourself. But no matter how much they claimed to know, or how much they actually knew, they didn't know two very vital parts of information about you.  
For one, you had control over the earth element. You didn't like to speak of it, or use this power around other people very much, because the last time you had used them around another person, someone got seriously injured. You used them very little. The guilt was what made you so antisocial.  
The second thing was a part you loved about yourself, but also told nobody about, was your green fairy wings. The tips were very elegant, and were as smooth as silk to touch. The green color was almost emerald where the wings connected to your back, and faded into lighter shades of green, until they were almost white on the tips. (1) You loved to hide in a secluded space and flutter your wings sometimes, to give them time to stretch. Overall, you loved to be alone.  
But a certain blond was very attracted to you, and he wanted to get to know you better.

You sat in your bedroom, silently sketching the New York skyline, when you were interrupted by a knock on your door.  
"Come in," you called softly.  
Your bedroom door edged open and Steve slowly stepped in.  
"Hello m'am," he smiled gently. You giggled, rolling your eyes.  
"Steve, I've told you before, you can just call me (Y/N). You don't have to be so formal," you smiled.  
Steve chuckled. “Anyway, you've been up here quite a while. I was wondering if you want to go and grab a coffee?"  
Your antisocial nature dropped, and you nodded.  
"That would be wonderful, thanks," you said before grabbing your bag and following Steve to the garage. He handed you a motorcycle helmet, before climbing on, you on the back.  
In no time at all you were speeding down the road towards a coffee shop Steve knew of. There were one or two other customers inside when you arrived, and it was right on the edge of the city, far from any drama.  
"Steve, this is lovely," you breathed, awestruck.  
"I thought you'd like it," he replied as you slid into a booth before he left to get drinks.  
You looked round. Out of all the team, Steve knew you best. You wanted to tell him about your powers, but you were frightened.  
You were broke out of your daydreams when Steve placed a mug in front of you.  
"(f/drink) and a (f/dessert), as always" he smiled. You took a bite from the pastry, thanking Steve around the mouthful.  
He sat and gazed at you intently for a few moments, causing you to blush. "I wish you would talk to me more (Y/N). You're really pretty," he smiled, causing you to blush more.  
"That's so sweet Steve," you giggled.

When you arrived back you thanked Steve again before going into your little garden. You lay on your front in the long grass and took a breath, fluttering your wings. You conjured up a glass and filled it with water before spawning a leaf which acted as the lemon some people would put on the side of their glass.  
"(Y/N)? You left your... Oh my goodness," Steve breathed. He had followed you outside to give you back your phone you had left with him. He had seen your wings, the water and the leaf. You stood up quickly, wrapping your jacket round your wings, kicking the glass away and hoping he would forget.  
No such luck.  
"Wings... You’re enhanced," he whispered.  
"Steve, please don't tell anyone," you begged, jacket falling to the floor once again. Your wings were out in the open, and Steve stepped forwards, running his fingertip down the elegant green feature, gasping.  
"I have to, um..." Steve began go back away, before turning to run. You fell to your knees in the grass and sobbed. He'd found out the one thing you didn't want him to know about, and he ran from you.  
You must have been sitting there for an hour, crying until your eyes became dry, before you heard sirens pull up outside. Your heart began to race.  
He hadn't... Had he?  
Moments later, officers ran in, wielding batons and shouting at you. You tried to get up and run, but tripped over your jacket, falling forwards. Attempting to get up, the sleeves tangled your legs, and you fell backwards. The officers ran over, grabbing you and locking handcuffs round your wrists. You screamed, but Steve just watched from the window, shaking his head and walking away. You were wrestled through the gate and thrown into a car, before the engine revved and the car sped off down the street. A tear escaped your eye, rolling down your cheek.

The prison cell you were put in was small and cramped and freezing cold. You curled into a corner, trying to muster some form of heat. Your wings drooped, and you tried to gently wrap them around as much of your skin as you could, which wasn't a lot. You didn't understand why you had been arrested. Maybe everyone was worried that what had happened with Pietro and Wanda before they became Avengers would happen again. You didn't think so, though. You had never put a foot down wrong, always being kind to everyone, donating to charities, helping the elderly across the street, doing all those stereotypically helpful things.  
You sat up, finally taking grip of what had happened.  
"I have to get out of here," you muttered silently to yourself. Standing beside the bars and reaching out, you realized you could almost slip out. Your wings were in the way, so you curled them gently around your body, and slid through the bars.  
Then you began to run.  
You crept quickly past the front desk, not a soul sitting behind it.  
Breaking into a sprint, you stumbled down the streets of New York, your thoughts catching up with you. Now that you were technically a criminal, you couldn't show your face anywhere, or use your name. You were back to square one; homeless on the streets.  
Five minutes passed, then ten, then fifteen. You were beginning to get tired from running, but you knew you couldn't fly. You would be seen.  
"There she is!" a yell sounded from behind you. You turned, seeing several S.H.I.E.L.D agents, the Avengers and Nick Fury staring you down. You were outnumbered.  
Any sane person would turn themselves in, admit they were wrong to try and leave and agree to be taken back. But you? You turned and continued to run, the yells continuing behind you, footsteps pacing themselves on the pavements.  
Realization hit you.  
You were a criminal.  
You had escaped jail.  
You had been silly to think everything would be alright.  
And you were now on the run.

You turned an alley and ducked behind a dumpster, watching from the shadows as the agents ran right past you. You let out a soft sigh and slumped against the brick wall behind you. Your eyes squeezed closed and a pout formed on your lips as your emotions took over. Tears spilled out of your eyes and streamed down your cheeks and a sob escaped your lips.  
How could Steve turn you in? You hadn’t done anything wrong. You’d never so much as said one mean word to anyone in the Avengers, and yet the second he found out about you, he had you locked up. You thought you could trust him. You thought… well, that was a stupid thought, wasn’t it? Obviously he didn’t care about you. He didn’t love you. He wouldn’t have turned you in if he felt anything for you.  
Your sobs got louder and more intense until your entire body was shaking. Your wings had unfurled on their own, wrapping around your body like an earthy cocoon. The ground began to rumble as you cried harder than you had in a long time. So much had happened in just one day. In a matter of a few hours, you went from having the best family you could ever ask for to being alone on the streets with no one to turn to. Vines sprouted up from the old gravel beneath you. Thicker vines wound around you near the ground while thinner ones reached up to shelter your body, shielding you from the outside world. Of course, a random cocoon of vines in the middle of an alleyway would look suspicious to any onlooker, but you didn’t care. Your life was over.  
“(y/n)?” a familiar voice called. You stiffened and your eyes widened. You frantically tried to keep still and quiet, breathing as softly as you could. What in the world was he doing here? Hadn’t he done enough to you?  
“(y/n)?” he called again. Footsteps came down the alley and you knew he had to have seen you by now. A sound of awe and wonder came from his lips as he stood a few feet away, admiring your work.  
“What do you want?” you growled as menacingly as you could.  
His face fell. He’d really screwed up. “(y/n)… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I saw your wings and I knew you were different and I… I panicked. I shouldn’t have called the police. I should have let you explain yourself before I jumped to conclusions.”  
You lowered your vine cage enough to look up at him. His heart broke at the tear stains on your face. “If Tony, or Clint, or Pietro or anyone else had seen my secret and turned me in, it would have made sense. I could have thought of a valid reason for them to panic and walk away from me. But you?” Your voice broke as you looked back down at your lap. “I thought you were different. I thought we… I thought you were different…”  
He stepped closer and knelt down before you, placing a hand on one of the thicker vines where he guessed your knees were. “I’m truly sorry. You didn’t deserve that. I regretted it as soon as I called them, and they got there so fast… I told the others what I did.”  
You remained quiet, waiting for him to continue.  
“They all yelled at me. They told me I should have told one of them instead of calling the police. They were right. I should have given you a chance.” With a sigh, he stood, turning to leave.  
“Why did you regret it?” you asked in a small voice.  
He turned to look at you. You were looking up at him through long lashes, your head ducked as though you were curious and afraid at the same time.  
He walked back over and placed a warm hand on your cheek, surprising you. “Because I’m in love with you, and in a split second I lost the one person who means more to me than anyone in the world.”  
“Steve,” you breathed, looking up at him in awe.  
“Do you think… I could ever get a second chance? I know I don’t deserve it, but I want to prove that I love you, that I can take care of you,” he said in a pleading tone.  
Hormones taking over your exhaustion, you leaned forward and pecked his lips. He responded after a second of frozen surprise. His other hand came up to cup your other cheek, holding you close. His lips melded perfectly against yours like you were made for each other.  
“One more chance,” you stated as you pulled away.  
The brightness of his smile rivaled the sun. You lowered the rest of your vines and stood up, causing him to stand with you. You rested your head on his chest tiredly. He smiled and wrapped his arms around your waist, bending down so he could pick you up. He cradled you to his chest as he turned and headed back to the Tower. It was time to go home.

 

(1) I know green wings are typical for a fairy but since the reader has earth powers I thought it fit. If she had fire powers I would have made them red, blue if she had water powers, and so on.


	37. Falling in Love with You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve has a vintage surprise for you

**Falling in Love with You**  
Request for _Megan_  
 **A/N:** “Wise men say only fools rush in. But I can’t help falling in love with you.” I love that song.

You knew Steve missed his hometown, no matter how much he said he was fine. You knew he missed growing up in the ‘40s. He missed the chivalry and respect, the town dances and genuine romance. He dealt with it, but he wasn’t overly fond of the way the world was now. The violence, the disrespect, the lack of dignity. Women walking around in shirts that couldn’t even be considered shirts with how much they revealed. Men treating women like trash and just walking away.  
You loved that about Steve. He held onto his gentlemanly nature, even after all the fights and invasions that he and the Avengers had to face. He rarely got angry, and when he did, he would go off somewhere quiet to be alone so that he didn’t do anything he’d regret. He was a very calm person, though very stubborn in his ways. He believed that everyone deserved a fair chance to be loved and respected. He only judged when someone harmed or upset him personally.  
He loved you. You would listen to him ramble on for hours about his life in the ‘40s, about Bucky trying to introduce him to women and him being too shy and polite to comply. He got so emotional when he told you how he became to be Captain America. You admired his goodwill and determination, and he loved you for it. The rest of the team would turn him away or rudely remind him that, “It’s not 1940 anymore.”

You would spontaneously plan a ‘40’s themed date or party when you knew he was feeling particularly nostalgic. You’d decorate the entire apartment in themed décor and you had half a closet full of vintage party dresses. For his birthday you’d gotten the Avengers and SHIELD agents to join in on the party, everyone wearing vintage outfits and playing their parts.  
No matter how many times a month you hosted such an event, Steve always seemed pleasantly surprised and genuinely awed by your actions. He knew that you would never judge him for missing his hometown, or home time. He would, in turn, concoct parties for you with the theme of your favorite movies. You would come home to find the apartment decked out with Middle Earth décor or Harry Potter spells written- in washable marker, of course- on the walls. He would dress up just like you would for him, portraying either your favorite character or whichever character you thought suited him best. He paid attention to those kinds of things.

Tonight was your third anniversary with the super soldier, and you’d decided to go out. You decided to surprise your boyfriend by taking him to a small restaurant on the edge of town that happened to have a ‘40s theme. Without giving too much away, you told him to wear his old uniform, which had been tailored to fit his Captain America body. You had taken out a dress from your collection for the night. It was a raspberry color and it flowed gently to your knees, with a straight neckline and cap sleeves, and the top half clung to your torso nicely.  
You had called the restaurant earlier that day to make a reservation. It wasn’t a terribly popular place, so they had plenty of room for you. You decided to warn the host that you were bringing Steve Rogers himself into the restaurant, telling him that while it would be fantastic for their business, he didn’t like to be crowded, so you wanted a secluded table.  
Steve loved his fans, he really did. He was too polite to turn them away when he wasn’t feeling like being an icon, but you knew there times when he wanted to run. You were determined that this anniversary would be incredible, so you made sure every detail was in order.

Convincing him to let you drive hadn’t taken much actual convincing. He was still new to a lot of modern technology and, though they had cars in his time, he had never driven one. So he was happy to let you take the wheel. He had enough to be nervous about tonight – he wouldn’t risk getting in an accident.  
His brow raised when you parked along the curb outside the restaurant. It was small, about the size of a diner, and tonight it wasn’t too busy, so parking close was easy. You smiled at him as you got out and locked the doors, standing on the curb and waiting so you could walk in together. You grabbed his hand and laced your fingers with his as you opened the door.  
His jaw dropped when he saw the familiar décor and the sound of Frank Sinatra floating through the air.  
You gave the host your name, not that he needed it. He guessed which reservation you were based on who you had walked in with. He smiled politely as he grabbed two menus and led you towards the back of the restaurant. Heads turned and gasps were heard, and Steve’s grip on your hand tightened ever-so-slightly. You squeezed back reassuringly as the host pulled back a curtain and showed you a small room in the back where no other patrons were seated. You chose the table in the middle of the room, thanking the host before he sauntered away.  
“So this was your plan,” he smiled.  
“This was my plan,” you nodded, smoothing out the skirt of your dress. “Do you like it?”  
He reached across the table to gently take your hand. “I love it.”

An hour later, you were almost done with your meal and Steve insisted on dessert. He scanned the menu and found your favorite treat, so he whispered it to the waiter so you couldn’t hear. You smiled and shook your head at his actions. Everything he did made you love him more.  
After dessert, he asked the waiter to tie back the curtain. You raised a confused brow, wondering why Steve would want a restaurant full of fans to focus on him.  
He rose from his seat only to kneel on the floor a few inches away from you. You stared down at him in confusion and anticipation. Something in the back of your mind told you that you knew what was coming, but you didn’t want to assume anything.  
“(y/n), you’ve been with me through a lot. You’ve always been there for me. You’re the only one who understands how much I miss all of this – the ‘40s. Not only do you understand, but you try to help. You throw parties and get dressed up, and apparently make reservations at fancy restaurants,” he smiled, holding your hands. You smiled down at him, letting out a breathy laugh. He brought your hand up so he could kiss your knuckles before he continued. “I can’t imagine spending a single day without seeing your face or hearing your voice. I hope I never have to endure that. I don’t think I could handle it.”  
He let go of one of your hands, reaching into his pocket. He’d been planning this for a long time now, but he could never find the right time, and he wanted it to be special. As his fingers ran across the smooth velvet box, he decided he couldn’t think of a more perfect time than your anniversary. He pulled said box from his pocket and showed it to you, causing your mouth to fall agape as you waited for him to open it. Your hands flew to your mouth as he lifted the lid, revealing a beautiful, vintage ring. The band was silver, seemingly simple unless you looked closer. The diamond was clear and elegantly cut, with smaller diamonds surrounding it. Simple yet elegant designs adorned the band where it met with the diamonds.  
“It was my mother’s,” he explained, pulling the ring from the box. “When I turned eighteen, she gave it to me. She told me to save it for my true love, for the one woman I was meant to be with. I’ve kept it since then, waiting to meet the right woman. When you and I became a couple, I’ve held onto it, waiting for the right moment to ask you… Will you marry me?”  
Happy tears gently streamed down your cheeks as you nodded vigorously. The entire restaurant including the staff erupted into cheers and applause. Steve slid the ring onto your finger before you pulled him into a kiss. He stood, bringing you up with him, his hands on your hips. Your hands cupped his cheeks as you kissed him repeatedly.  
“I love you, Steve,” you managed around your tears.  
“I love you, too,” he beamed, pulling you close.


	38. Prom Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You go to prom with the most unlikely person

**Prom Night**  
Request for _ChloeMcIntyre1986_  
 **A/N:** Modern high school AU.  
Actually mostly written by Wolf Princess Warrior, edited by me.

It started with a close proposal after a Varsity soccer game.  
Your team consisted of you, your best girlfriends Natasha and Pepper, and ten other girls. You had scored the winning goal, finishing the game 6-5. When the ball made it in the net you immediately ran to embrace your teammates despite the sweaty jerseys you all were in. Cheering in the stands were Natasha’s and Pepper's respective boyfriends, Clint and Tony. The boys had come to congratulate their girlfriends, but it was the third person that caught your eye.  
Steve Rogers – straight “A” student and Student Body President of the senior class. Rumor had it that almost a dozen girls had tried to ask him to Prom which was later that night and he declined every one of them, much to everyone's surprise. Clint and Tony had already asked Natasha and Pepper to Prom, both of whom said yes and were getting ready at Pepper's place. They also invited you along even though you didn't have a date. Steve gave a small smile and looked at you with his baby blue eyes, making a lump grow in your throat. Since the beginning of the year during the fall sports season, Steve would do laps around the track while the girls’ soccer team practiced. He would often discard his shirt, getting too hot after a few laps. Seeing him without a shirt on, you had definitely picked up on why so many girls liked him. While on runs, Natasha would nudge your shoulder.  
"Why don't you ask him out already?" she would push.  
"Well, he's Mr. Perfect, and I'm, well, me," you would shrug. Natasha would roll her eyes and continue to jog. To help calm yourself down from the approaching guy in front of you, the first thing that came in mind was grab the nearest water bottle and chug.  
"Hey (y/n), great game and congrats on that final goal. That was really awesome." You could feel the blush heating your cheeks.  
“Uh, thanks,” you mumbled back. Steve gave you a smile that made him look like a puppy.  
"You’re welcome. So, I know it's kinda last minute, but since you already bought a Prom ticket, would you like to be my date tonight?"  
You couldn't believe your ears and for a moment you stared at him in disbelief.  
"Uhm, (y/n)?"  
Blinking again you smiled back at him. "I'd love to go with you Steve. I'm getting ready with Natasha and Pepper at Pep's place. Clint and Tony are picking them up at 8. You can come and get me then."

Later that night at Pepper's place, the three of you girls showered off the grime from the game, gave each other manicures, styled one another's hair, and got into your dresses. Promptly at eight o'clock the doorbell rang. Natasha opened the door revealing Tony, Clint, and Steve looking sharp in their tuxedos and in each one of their hands a corsage to go with their dates. Smiling, you took Steve's hand and placed a rose in his jacket pocket. He, in turn, placed the corsage on your bare wrist. After the pictures had been taken by each of you girls, the six of you piled into Tony's private limo heading to Prom.  
When you arrived, Prom was already in full swing with the DJ blasting popular music, the main lights turned off, the disco ball sparkling and strobe lights flashing. Steve led you in already slightly dancing to the music. The six of you claimed a table, placing your jackets and purses on the chairs then taking to the dance floor. The crowd parted like the Red Sea to make way for you guys. Many of the girls looked at you with jealous eyes since you were being led by the one and only Steve Rogers. You bit your lip nervously and slowed a little.  
"Hey," Steve said picking up on your mood. His baby blue eyes gazed into yours. "Don't worry about what they're doing. Right now it's just you and me." He took your hands and the two of you began to move to the upbeat song that was currently playing. After dancing to Jessie J’s “Domino,” doing the Cupid Shuffle, and “Gangnam Style,” the two of you took a break.  
Steve went to grab drinks while you found your group’s table. That had been the most exhilarating twelve minutes of your life. You had danced with Steve Rogers, and during that time all of his attention was on you and only you. The way he looked at you during the songs was almost the same way someone in love would look at their partner. Sitting down on either side of you were Pepper and Natasha.  
“So how are you enjoying Prom with Steve?” Pepper prompted.  
Unable to contain it any longer you sighed and smiled like a lovesick fool. “It’s fantastic,” you said turning to your friends.  
Natasha, with a glint in her eye, looked towards Steve who was coming their way. “Well I think it might just get a bit better.” She nudged you to look at him. She and Pepper abruptly stood and went back to the dance floor to find their boyfriends.  
“What was that all about?” Steve chuckled, handing you a plastic cup of punch.  
“Just Natasha and Pepper being themselves,” you replied, sipping your punch as he occupied the seat Pepper had been in. You relaxed a bit more until a familiar song came ringing over the speakers. Standing up he held out his hand to you. As you took it, he led you back to the dance floor. Gently placing his strong hands on your lower back, he pulled you a little closer to him, making you wrap your hands around his neck and arms on his shoulders. Catching eye contact with each other, the two of you swayed to the melody of Dolly Parton’s “I Will Always Love You.”  
“ _Bittersweet memories  
That is all I'm taking with me  
So, goodbye  
Please, don't cry  
We both know I'm not what you, you need  
And I will always love you_.”  
Leaning down so Steve was at your height he gently began to whisper, “Hey (y/n), I’ve wanted to tell you something for so long, but I could never find the right words.”  
“What is it?”  
“ _I hope life treats you kind  
And I hope you have all you've dreamed of  
And I wish to you, joy and happiness  
But above all this, I wish you love_.”  
Taking a deep breath, he continued. “From the start of the school year, you caught my eye. Every day I would go jogging, and it was the highlight of my day when I saw you run by. You were so beautiful, graceful and strong. Independent too. That’s why I was so shy about asking you out. You were so reserved, I wasn’t sure you would even take an interest in me. Seeing the smile on your face today while you were playing soccer was just so incredible and what I’m trying to say is that I love that you're so independent, and competitive and thoughtful…” The same feeling you got when he talked to you earlier that day came back. “What I’m trying to say is (y/n), I think I’m falling for you, and I’m falling hard and fast.”  
The only thing you could do was stare at him as he poured out his heart. “Steve,” you said his name as his hand came up to cup your cheek. “I’m falling for you too,” you confessed. Not wasting another moment Steve leaned in and you followed in suit, eyes closed. As your lips connected the crescendo of the song burst into everyone’s ears, sending shivers down your spine. Steve’s hands pulled you in closer as he deepened the kiss. You kissed him back just as lovingly and let your hands rest on his face. Before anything else happened, Tony’s voice came over the speakers.  
“Hey Rogers, good work, but even Pep and I don’t kiss that much in public.”  
Both of you loosened the grips you had on each other, but still remained one another’s arms. Opening your eyes, you both looked back at each other with the brightest smiles. Turning to Tony at the DJ booth, you stuck your tongue out at him while Steve just shook his head.  
“Would you like to go out for dinner?” he whispered in your ear.  
“I’d love to,” you replied with a smile.


	39. Love is Only Sleeping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're suddenly in the 1940s with Steve

**Love is Only Sleeping**  
Request for _JustAnAvengersFangirl_  
 **A/N:** Co-written by TheSilverScorpion. Note at the end.

You looked around with awe and amazement as you arrived in 1940s New York.  
Erik Selvig had managed to create a fully functional time machine, and as soon as the news reached Steve, he immediately wanted to go home. More than that, he wanted to show you his home. He begged Erik to let him try it out, and though Jane was skeptical about trying it on a person, Erik let him go. The both of you stepped into the chamber and watched through the glass door as Erik punched in the date that Steve had told him. You were surrounded by a flash of light and the sound of wind and the next thing you knew, you were in a back alley behind an old brick building.  
Steve’s eyes were lit with excitement as he ran out to the sidewalk, looking around. It seemed that you had in fact been transported through time. He couldn’t believe he was back. He thought he’d never see his old life again.  
The first thing Steve noticed was the modesty. Nowhere in sight was a woman with skimpy clothing. They all acted like proper ladies, and the "ladies first" rule seemed to apply everywhere he looked. He took pride in what his hometown was. He then proceeded to take you on a walk to see what it was like. You could find things like open markets, a larger abundance of cafes, and along the way Steve would point out all of the places he got beat up. It took a while to absorb everything that Steve showed you. It was just so different from the twenty-first century. There were more kids playing catch outside, everything was designed differently, and the music played was all a different style.  
"Are you alright?" Steve asked you, noticing your hanging jaw.  
"Yeah, it's just overwhelming. But what about you? You look like you'll explode of happiness any moment."  
Steve looked like a little kid on Christmas morning, and his smile only made you happier. "I just forgot how much I used to love this place…"

Steve found a restaurant that he used to go to with Bucky. He led you inside excitedly. You looked around, catching several signs which boasted that this place had “the best darn burgers around.” Pictures of Rosy the Riveter littered the walls along with American flags and dedications to the veterans.  
You smiled at the super soldier as he sat down. Surprisingly enough, no one seemed to recognize him. You wondered if it was a weird time travel occurrence, or if the super serum had just changed him that much.  
When your food came, you realized that the signs lived up to their claim. It was the best burger you’d ever eaten, and you were glad you were here with Steve.  
Steve couldn't help but smile at the sparkle in your eye. He quickly took it back before you noticed. There was no way a dame like you could be interested in him, right? Of course, Bucky did all he could to convince him otherwise, but Steve loved the friendship he had with you, and he didn't want to risk it.  
You looked around and couldn't help but notice a lone poster on the wall of Steve that read: "Captain America, the Star Spangled Man with a plan, coming to you soon!" You didn't bring it up, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.  
Once you were finished eating, he took you to see an old timey movie in an old timey movie theatre. You both watched Laura together, and it couldn't have made you happier to sit so close to him. Halfway through the movie, you subconsciously leaned against his shoulder. The blonde was startled at first, but he then relaxed when he felt your steady breathing.  
You did your best to stay awake. You weren’t a big fan of old-fashioned movies, but you knew this was Steve’s favorite, so you followed it through for him. When it was over, you stood and left the theater. You turned him, your heart warmed by the smile on his face. “What do you want to do now?”  
“I saw a poster at the restaurant that said the Town Hall was hosting a dance… Would you like to go?”  
You smiled and nodded, taking Steve’s arm. He grinned and led you down the street to the Town Hall. The dance was already in full swing, gentleman twirling their ladies around and catching them before they could fall. Steve led you in. Again, no one seemed to recognize him, but you didn’t mind. You also didn’t mind that you looked completely out of place with your modern clothes, and wearing pants.  
He pulled you close to his chest as you danced. His hands rested gently on your hips while yours were placed on his shoulders. He leaned in close, his lips inches away from yours…

Your eyes slowly fluttered open. A soft groan escaped your lips as you looked around, taking in your surroundings. You were lying on a king-sized bed, and when you turned your head to the left, you saw Steve having just woken up beside you. A blush stained your cheeks as you realized that all of those wonderful dates had only been a dream, and your blush deepened when you saw that you and Steve were holding hands in your sleep.  
“What happened?” you asked, sitting up. You reluctantly let go of his hand.  
“I’m not sure,” he replied. “I think we were knocked out.”  
“Did someone hit us?” you asked.  
He shook his head. “I remember my soda tasting off… What about your tea?”  
Thinking back on it, you nodded. “Now that you mention it, yeah. It did taste funny.”  
“Maybe we were drugged?” he guessed.  
“But why both of us?” you wondered. “And why were we… put together?” You looked down at your lap, trying to figure out why whoever drugged you would lay you down next to Steve. It could be that the culprit was someone who knew of your crush on the soldier… but that narrowed it down to Tony. But then again, Tony had a big mouth. For all you knew, he could have run and told every one of the Avengers, including Steve…  
“I had a really weird dream,” he said.  
“Really?” you asked. “So did I.”  
“What was yours about?” he asked.  
Embarrassed, you replied, “You first.”  
You could swear a light layer of pink dusted his cheeks. “You were there. We were back in 1940, and I got to show you all of the places I liked to go. We went out for dinner, saw a movie, and we went to a dance…”  
You stared at him with wide eyes. “That was my dream too. How can that be?”  
“I don’t know…” he replied. “But… I liked it.”  
Your heart melted. “Really?”  
He smiled and scooted closer to you. He lifted a hand, hooking his fingers gently under your chin, keeping your gaze on him. He gazed in your sparkling (e/c) eyes. “I love you, (y/n). I have for a long time.”  
“I love you too, Steve,” you smiled. He leaned in, beginning there the dream had left off. His lips moved perfectly in sync with yours. You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around his neck. His hands rested at your waist, holding you close without being too forward.  
You pulled away when your phone beeped, signaling that you had a new text. You reached for it, finding it on the nightstand. Keeping an arm around Steve, you opened the text and read it, holding your phone where Steve could see it too.  
_From: Tony  
Hey (y/n). I know you made me swear not to tell, but I told. I already knew Spangles had a crush on you, so I had to do something to get you two together. I talked to Loki and had him make me a potion that would put you both to sleep and give you the same dream. Thought maybe if you both dreamt about being together, you might actually get together. I know it worked because I can see you on the security camera right now. Don’t worry, I don’t want to watch. I just wanted to say “congrats.”_  
Your blush burned brighter as you closed the message. “Tony is one sneaky bastard.”  
Steve chuckled, setting your phone on the nightstand and pulling you back against his chest. “Now, where were we?”  
You grinned as he leaned in to kiss you again.

 

A/N: So I usually identify dreams or flashbacks by making them Italic, but the end was supposed to be a surprise, so I had to make it regular text.


	40. Soldier A

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You meet Steve just before you're about to head to Iraq.

**Soldier A**  
Request for _Jewel_

 

You blew out a soft sigh as you entered the gym. The gym itself was closed, but certain members were given a key so they could use the equipment whenever they needed. You were one such member. Being an active member in the military gave you a lot of benefits around town. You tried not to take advantage of them. You didn’t mind having to wait in line or pay full price. But the gym was different. Your need to blow off some steam at one in the morning was directly related to you being in the military.  
You were a nurse in the army. You’d seen many horrible injuries, and though you had learned to push through them without so much as a grimace, they still haunted you whenever you got a break.  
You headed into the room with the punching bags and set down your backpack. You pulled out some Ace bandages, wrapping and securing them around your knuckles. A full bottle of water sat on the floor beside your bag as you blew out another breath and took a swing. The leather bag swung backwards, limping falling back into place. You hit it with the other hand, harder this time. It swung more, and you didn’t give it time to come all the way back before you hit it again.  
Flashes of memory pulled at your focus as you poured all of your stress and frustrations into the bag. Images of having to stitch up your own injuries as part of your training flooded your mind. Memories of pouring alcohol over a gash in someone’s abdomen, hearing them cry out. In your training you’d learned not to respond with emotion; only instruction or warning. “Lie still.” “I need to rip your shirt.” “This is going to sting.”  
You were too lost in your own memories to notice the arrival of another member looking to blow off steam. You focused on the bag, alternating which fist you were punching with, never giving it the chance to come all the way back. Images of oozing blood and broken bones. Memories of gunshots and grenade explosions. The only part that bothered you was the one or two you didn’t save. Their injuries were too severe, and you hadn’t gotten there in time. The remaining soldiers told you that you did all you could, that you didn’t have time, that it wasn’t your fault. But you would always carry that guilt, and you knew when you looked at the commanding officer’s expression that he would always blame you.  
Steve watched you with intrigue as he set up his own bag, wrapping his own hands in bandages. He was impressed at how well you were handling yourself. He’d never seen you before, but he certainly wanted to know your name. He began punching the bag before him, his eyes constantly flickering to you. He reached out to still the chunk of leather when you managed to punch a hole in yours. Sand began spilling out and you let out a groan. You’d have to pay for that.  
You decided to take a break. Even with bandages, your knuckles were sore. You knew from experience that they’d be red and irritated for a while. Letting out a sigh you sat down on the bench, uncapping your water and gulping down half the bottle.  
“What’s your name?” Steve asked, walking over.  
“(y/n),” you replied. “You’re Steve Rogers, right?”  
“Yes, ma’am,” he smiled.  
You chuckled. “Just as polite as your reputation represents.”  
“What are you doing here so late? Can’t sleep?”  
You nodded. “PTSD. I spend most of my nights here when I’m on leave.”  
“On leave?” he repeated. “You a soldier?”  
“Army nurse,” you clarified. “I got a month leave. It’s almost over though.”  
“America thanks you,” he smiled. He knew soldiers did it for their love of help, not for the glory or the appreciation. But he also knew that it was nice to be appreciated, to know that the people cared that you were risking your life for them.  
You smiled softly. “Thank them back for me,” you said. You reached up and unhooked the punching bag, dropping it to the ground. You’d deal with replacing it in the morning.  
“I’m going to head home,” you decided, packing up your bag. “It was nice to meet you, Steve.”  
He smiled genuinely. “You too, (y/n).”

A few days later, he couldn’t get you out of his head. You were beautiful, even with your (h/l) (h/c) locks tied into a messy ponytail and sweat dripping down your (s/t) face. He decided that he needed to know when you left so he could hopefully ask you out.  
Only government officials and families of the officers were supposed to know the details, but they made an exception for Steve. He was allowed anywhere. He gave them your name, but it took some extra searching since he didn’t know your last name. They finally found your information and informed the soldier that you were scheduled to go to Iraq that afternoon. He then rushed to the airport to buy a plane ticket.  
They managed to get him on the next flight. After a twelve hour plane ride, he bought some coffee to keep himself awake as he began looking for you. He went to the army base and, being Steve Rogers, was allowed in. (1) He told them he was looking for you, now knowing your last name thanks to the base in New York. He looked around as they began searching their database, catching a glimpse of familiar (h/c) hair.  
“(y/n)!” he called out.  
You turned at the mention of your name, surprised to see Steve in Iraq. You stood still while he ran over to you. “Steve?” you greeted in confusion. “What are you doing here?”  
“I… I wanted to see you,” he said rather lamely. “I just really wanted to get to know you but you were leaving and I didn’t know when you’d be back…”  
“So you flew to Iraq to see me?” you finished, still confused.  
He nodded. “I know we just met but… I like you. You seem really nice and really interesting and I would love the chance to get to know you.”  
You smiled up at him, opening your mouth to reply when your name was called. You nodded at your officer who told you that you could have one more minute. You turned back to Steve and cupped his cheek.  
“Three months. I’ll be back in three months. Go back to New York and wait for me,” you told him. You stood on your toes, kissing him softly. “Bye Steve.”  
He smiled like a lovesick puppy as you turned to leave. “Bye, (y/n).”

 

(1) As someone who’s only lived next to a base but never on it, I have no idea how any of that works. I’M NOT ASKING FOR ANSWERS. I’m just letting you know I had to make it up.


	41. Saving People, Hunting Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You hunt, but not like normal people hunt.

**Saving People, Hunting Things**  
Request for _Grace_

 

You’d lost a lot of loved ones in your life. Demons and monsters plagued your existence. You’d devoted your life to hunting them down, lessening their numbers, as had your parents. A demon had wiped out your mother and a werewolf ate your father. Overwhelmed by grief, you set your heart on vengeance. You killed both the demon and the werewolf and decided to spend the rest of your days tracking down monsters- focusing on the ones that killed civilians but occasionally you killed nice monsters too- in order to save lives.

Your latest hunt landed you in New York, rather close to Stark Tower. It took some time to track down the demon, so Tony had offered you to stay at the Tower for the time being. You’d known Clint for a long time and your father had been best friends with Howard Stark, so you knew Tony pretty well. You were attracted to Steve the second you met him, and he was so sweet and polite, but you knew you had to keep your distance. You shouldn’t have let Tony or Clint get as close as they were, but it was too late for that now.  
You kept your distance, even when you were in the Tower. The Avengers spent most of their time there and Tony had given you a spare room. You only had a backpack and a car trunk full of belongings, which wasn’t a lot, but it was enough once you got all your laundry washed and your blades sharpened.  
You kept to yourself, hiding in your room and only coming out when you need food or the bathroom. The others thought you were antisocial, but Clint and Tony tried explaining that you just had childhood issues and were cautious around people. The both of them knew what you did, Tony because of his dad and Clint because you met him by saving his life from a vampire.

“It has nothing to do with any of you,” Tony insisted to the others as he poured himself a cup of coffee.  
“Are you sure?” Steve asked. He was completely infatuated with you, but you never even spoke to him. “She hasn’t hung out with us since her first day in town.”  
“Yeah, how can you say it’s not us?” Bruce added. “Is she just antisocial?”  
“She’s had a hard life,” Clint explained, sitting down at the table. “She lost her parents when she was fifteen. She tries not to get close to people.”  
“What happened?” Nat asked, genuinely curious.  
Clint and Tony shared a look. “Car accident,” Tony replied. That was the story the three of you had agreed on.  
“Drunk driver,” Clint added.  
“Where was (y/n)?” Steve asked softly.  
“With me and my dad,” Tony sighed. “We had a sleepover the night before. Her parents died on the way to pick her up.”  
“That’s awful,” Bruce breathed.  
“That’s why she’s distant,” Clint concluded. “It’s not any of you. I’m sure she likes you guys. She’s just scared of getting close.”

You were out in a woodsy part of town, having tracked the demon there. Your mother had been really into witchcraft, so she taught you how to scry for monsters when you couldn’t track them. All you needed was something that belonged to them, such as a piece of clothing or a strand of hair. You’d ripped the demon’s shirt the last time you met up with him, so you used the shred of cloth along with a crystal and a map of New York to find the demon.  
You padded softly through the forest, silver dagger gripped tightly in your hand. It was a blade specially crafted for killing demons that were otherwise impossible to kill. It had been passed down to you from your father.  
The demon growled in surprise when he realized you were tracking him. You lunged forward, digging the blade into his chest. He let out a yell and threw you backwards. You fell against the ground with a loud thud, groaning at the impact. You quickly scrambled to your feet, standing just in time to see the demon explode into nothing, leaving the bloody blade on the ground.  
“(y/n)?” a familiar voice called. You froze in place. You were caught.  
You slowly turned around to see Steve standing a few feet away, his eyes wide with surprise. “What are you doing here, Steve?”  
“So this is why you don’t get close to people,” he said, more to himself than to you. He didn’t seem angry or scared; more fascinated than anything. “You hunt… things. They killed your parents, didn’t they?”  
You nodded, slowly walking back to him. “We tell people it as a car crash but… a demon killed my mom and a werewolf ate my dad.”  
“Werewolf?” he repeated, slightly surprised. You’d think Captain America would be less inclined to accept demons and monsters ruining his perfect world, but he seemed to accept the information.  
You nodded. “My parents hunted them too. It’s kind of a family business. That’s how I met Tony and Clint. My dad was best friends with Howard, and I helped my parents save Clint when we were kids.”  
He nodded, taking it all in. “That’s… kind of amazing.”  
“What, really?” you asked. No one had ever called what you did amazing. They’d called it scary, and crazy, and even stupid, but never amazing.  
“You risk your life and spend all your time killing monsters so other people don’t get hurt,” he breathed. “That’s amazing.”  
“You’re not scared or upset?” you clarified.  
He shook his head. “I’m just glad I understand now. You have every reason to be cautious.”  
He leaned in close, his lips inches away from yours. Years of being alone without so much as a hug was finally getting to you, and you accepted his embrace. Just before he could kiss you, though, you pulled back, the fear of losing someone else taking over every other emotion.  
“Steve… People get hurt when I get too close. Demons come after them just to get to me. I can’t… I can’t get close…”  
He placed a hand on your cheek, gently tilting your head up to meet his eyes. “I’ll be okay. I’ll help you fight them. I’m an Avenger; I can fight a demon. Let me in. I want to help.”  
You bit your lip as you looked up at him. No one had ever been so kind. You nodded which also acted as permission for him to lean in again. He pulled you close, pressing his lips to yours. You let out a sigh and wrapped your arms around his neck. His hands soothingly rubbed your back, pulling your chest against his.  
“Thank you, Steve,” you whispered against his lips.  
He smiled, kissing your forehead.


	42. In the Middle of a Gunfight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve has something to say in the middle of a gunfight

**In the Middle of a Gunfight…**  
Request for _Arden Grace Rose_  
 **A/N:** Mostly written by Unpadalock your inner padalecki. Edited by me.

Nervousness flooded through you as you snuck around the base for your mission. You slightly regretted taking SHIELD up on the offer, but you felt a little better when a certain blond gave you a comforting glance.  
There was a drive in the building with information that would allow SHIELD to locate more Hydra bases and see some of the schemes they were planning. The thing was, before they had abandoned the building, Hydra had left a small army of robots to guard the drive. You and Steve had to go in and take out every robot you crossed paths with and make it out of the other side of the building.  
Everyone else was out on some mission of their own, so it was just you and Steve. Fury thought that given both of your skill sets, it shouldn’t be a problem. Normally, you’d be wary of this being a two-man mission, but it was Steve. You trusted him with your life, and he trusted you with his. The two of you had been in a relationship for the past two years, so there was no one else that you would rather be paired with.  
The two of you worked extremely well together. Obviously, he had his super-soldier power. You had no powers, but Tony made you some of your own gear, and you had combat skills that rivaled Natasha’s.  
The plane had arrived at your location. Steve turned to you. “You ready?”  
“As I’ll ever be”

You had already been on the move for about two hours, fighting and looking for the drive. You were on the last floor, so you and Steve decided to split up for a little bit.  
There was a room about the size of a child’s bedroom. Wires were strewn all around the room and a network of computers was set on a table in the middle. You could see the drive and you smirked to yourself in victory. You ended the program and took the drive. A familiar voice on your intercom got your attention. “(Y/N) I need some backup over here!”  
“Where are you?”  
“West corner! Be careful; there are a lot of them!”  
You sprinted towards where he said he was, and slight panic filled you when you did. There was a small group of the robot soldiers closing in on Steve, so you did the only thing that came to mind at the time.  
You went in behind of one of the robots, using one of your handguns to take it down.  
You slowly backed away while fighting, your gun all out of bullets. You looked around for something, anything that could help you. Doing all you could, your grabbed a broken metal pipe that was lying on the floor. You swung it with both hands and it hit the robot in front of you in the head then kicked its gun off of its back. With a determined yell, you opened fire on the rest of the robots. Steve was busy with other bots, so you weren’t sure how he was doing. You were scared for him, but you had other things to focus on at the moment. Panting, you watched as the last of the robots went down in front of you.  
You turned and saw that Steve was staring at you with a dumbfounded look, eyes wide and jaw dropped despite the destruction that was around them. You quirked your eyebrow up, but his expression remained the same.  
“My god…” he breathed out.  
“What?”  
After a silence, he walked over to you with the same look on his face. “Marry me.”  
You did a double take. Wait, what?!  
“I love you more than anything, and this wasn’t really how I was planning on proposing, but (Y/N), if we make it out of this mission alive, I hope that you will do me the biggest honor by becoming Mrs. (Y/N) Rogers.”  
You gaped at him like a fish out of water. You loved him. He was your world, and this made you the happiest girl on earth. How could you refuse? You were about to answer him, but a bright blue blast came between you two. More robots were here.  
“Let me take a rain check on that answer,” he said with a smile.  
The two of you ran towards the new set of bots, repeating the same drill as before. There were more than earlier, but you had to make it out of the south side of the building. There were more than before and it became easier to catch you off guard. You were tired and all you could think about was Steve’s spontaneous proposal. All of a sudden, a flash of pain rushed through you. Steve spun around as he heard you cry out. One of the blasts had hit you in your shoulder, but you kept fighting.  
The last robot fell to the floor and you looked to Steve. “We need to go! The plane is out there.”  
You both ran out of the building and onto the plane.  
The hatch closed behind you as you took a seat, panting for air. Steve, however, walked over to you with a first aid kit he found.  
“You do know you’re gonna need stitches right?”  
You grumbled something incoherent, which made the super soldier chuckle. He took your hand and led you to a table. You took your top uniform layer off, leaving you in a t-shirt.  
As he prepped your arm, you smirked at him playfully. “Didn’t know you knew how to do this, Soldier”  
“I’m 95. I would have had to learn how to do this at some point,” he said with a smile, not taking his eyes off of your shoulder. You let out a light laugh that was cut off with a wince when he put the antiseptic on.  
He gave you an apologetic look. He hated seeing you in pain for whatever reason. “Sorry.”  
“Steve, it's fine,” you said, putting a hand on his. A comfortable silence filled the air as he finished.  
“All done.” He turned to find a trashcan to throw everything away.  
You hopped off of the table and hugged him from behind. “You never let me answer you earlier.”  
He turned to look at you with a confused look. Then it hit him. “Oh yeah… that wasn’t really how I planned on doing it,” he said, rubbing his neck with a slight blush on his face. He looked back up and walked over to you, taking your hands in his. “You mind if I do it right this time?”  
Unable to take your eyes off of him, you nodded.  
“(y/full/n),” he began as he went down on one knee. “I don’t even know where to begin. I’m almost a century old, (Y/n), and never in my life have I experienced anything that makes me feel the same way that you do. There are no words in our language to describe how much you mean to me, but you should know that if you say yes, I intend on spending the rest of my life trying to show you. Will you let me start by doing me the greatest honor of marrying me?”  
Your eyes teared up as you looked at him, all the happiness in the world in your eyes. Those blue eyes you grew to love mirrored yours. They held so much adoration and sincerity, you could get lost in them.  
You nodded furiously, taking one hand back to cover your mouth as you let out a shaky breath. “Yes,” you whispered to him. You knelt in front of Steve and took his face in your hands. “Yes I will.”  
With absolutely no hesitation, he placed his lips on yours in a sweet and passionate kiss. You felt him smile against your mouth and you smiled back. It was short, but there was so much feeling within it. He pulled away and rested his forehead on yours.  
“I’d give you the ring right now, but it’s at the Tower.”  
You laughed, but it sounded strange since you were still slightly crying. “That’s perfectly okay.”  
He helped you up off the ground and he pulled you into a tight embrace. He was careful not to hurt your shoulder, but that was the last thing on your mind. You buried your head in his chest. His warmth made you feel pure safety and love. You stood there for a few minutes before looking up at him again.  
“I love you. So much.”  
“I love you, too.”  
“Y’know, I can get used to (Y/N) Rogers.”  
He laughed, that loving gaze still in his eyes. “Trust me, so can I.”


	43. I Need You, I'm Sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have a fight with Steve

**I Need You, I’m Sorry**  
Request for _Andrea Delatorre_

 

It had been a long week for Steve.  
He wanted to move out of the Avengers Tower so he could have his own space. He didn’t particularly dislike living with his team, but it got annoying always having them around. For a few months, he’d been trying to get a job so he could save up and rent an apartment. Getting hired was easy – he was Captain America. All he had to do was walk in and ask for a job, and the business owner would probably let him have the whole business for nothing.  
Keeping a job proved less easy. He was a very hard worker and his bosses loved him. The problem as that he worked harder than all other workers combined, thus making them look bad. It got to the point where every single employee would complain to the boss and offer an ultimatum – Steve goes, or they quit. No one had the heart, or the courage, to fire Steve, but while he was a wonderful worker, he couldn’t very well be the only employee. No business could run with only one employee. So Steve was always the one let go.

He had just come home from another firing. The managers would always apologize profusely and explain the situation so Steve understood it wasn’t bad or his fault. But that didn’t make it any easier to handle, and he was beginning to lose hope. That was five different jobs now, none of them lasting longer than two weeks. How was he supposed to save up for an apartment if he didn’t have any money coming in?  
He collapsed on the couch in the currently empty rec room. He was thankful that the other Avengers had somewhere else to be. He didn’t have a TV in his bedroom and he felt the need to distract himself with some classic Disney.  
You chose that moment to come sauntering into the room, excited when you saw the super soldier. You’d been meaning to ask him a question.  
“Hey, Steve,” you greeted, completely missing the exhausted expression on his face. “Do you know where-“  
“Not now!” he yelled, harsher than you’d ever heard him.  
The firecracker inside you ignited and your hands clenched into fists. “Don’t yell at me!”  
“Don’t interrupt my solitude!”  
“If you want solitude, don’t be in a community room!”  
“I was here first! I have prior claim!”  
“For a ninety year old man, you’re such a child!” (1)  
“That’s rich, coming from you.”  
“What the Hell is that supposed to mean?”  
“You always act like a child, especially around Stark!”  
“So I’m a child because I spend time with the one person in this Tower who knows how to have fun?”  
“You’re an adult, (y/n). Act like one!”  
“Because you’re being a real adult right now, Steve, yelling at your best friend just because she tried to ask you a question!”  
“I’ve had a bad day. Maybe you should ask how someone’s doing instead of just trying to get what you want!”  
“So what, it’s my fault you’re having a bad day?”  
“Well you’re not making it better.”  
“I can’t believe I ever considered you to be my best friend!”  
“I can’t believe I ever fell in love with you!”  
Whatever witty retort you had bubbling in your throat was gone as you stared at him in shock. “You what?”  
He realized what he said and covered his mouth as though he’d called you some awful name. “I… I didn’t say that.”  
“Yes, you did,” you argued. “You said you were in love with me.”  
He crossed his arms immaturely. “So?”  
You stepped closer, looking up at him. “So… did you mean it?”  
“What does it matter?” he grumbled.  
“It matters because… I’m kind of in love with you too.”  
“What, really?”  
You let out a giggle, jumping and throwing your arms around him. The impact knocked him backwards, landing the both of you on the couch.  
“Really,” you replied, nibbling your lip. He had wrapped one arm around you to catch you when he fell backwards. His free hand was sliding up your face to cup the back of your head.  
He pulled your face to his, tentatively pecking your lips. You responded immediately, moving your hands to rest on his chest and fisting them in his shirt. His arm around your waist tightened as he gripped your hip. His hand tangled in your hair, keeping you in place.  
You let out a contented noise as your lips melded against one another’s. You slid one hand up his chest, reaching around and tangling in the short hairs on the back of his neck. He gingerly nipped your lower lip which was more than you expected from a first kiss with Steve. Just as you opened your mouth to let him in, someone cleared their throat.  
“I came in ‘cause I heard yelling and wanted to see what was going on,” Tony said, holding a hand in front of his face so he couldn’t see you. “Glad you’re making up. Carry on.”  
He turned on his heel and headed back to his lap, mumbling something about “gross old man kisses.”  
Steve’s face resembled the color of a tomato and you let out a giggle. You looked down at him, nuzzling his nose with yours. He smiled softly at you.  
“I’m sorry I yelled,” he said softly.  
“Me too,” you replied.  
You rested your head on his chest, breathing out a soft sigh. He adjusted on the couch, letting your lower half settle between his legs. His long legs tangled around yours, keeping you on his chest. The hand on your head began absent-mindedly playing with your hair, causing you to hum contentedly.  
“No more fighting?” you mumbled, half asleep.  
He chuckled. “No more fighting.”

 

(1) I don’t care how old he actually is. For all intents and purposes, I’m calling it ninety. I don’t care if it’s ninety-two or ninety-five. I’m calling it ninety. Don’t correct me.


	44. Thunder Before the Lightning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have lightning powers.

**Thunder Before the Lightning  
Request for _Dark Arrow the Avenger_  
A/N: Co-written by TheSilverScorpion and Blossom.**

**You were always unaccepted. You were an outcast throughout school, and your parents were scared of you. The lightning powers that made you unique to everyone else were also the reason that no one wanted to be around you. That's why when you were offered a job at SHEILD, a chance to be recognized for what made you special, you didn't hesitate to say yes to the man with the eye patch.  
You hadn't been a S.H.I.E.L.D agent very long, and you were still getting daily combat lessons from Natasha, when Fury brought it to your attention that you soon had a mission to go on. You had argued slightly, often pointing out the fact you were barely Level Two. Fury eventually gave in, telling you he would find someone to go with you.  
You waited a few days, but still heard nothing about who your partner would be. You didn't ask, not wanting to annoy anybody, especially not Fury. So you began to train twice as hard in case you had to go alone.  
It was during one of the midnight training sessions you gave yourself that you met him.  
You were doing the usual, punching training dummies and lifting weights, when the door creaked open. You froze, looking up, and when your eyes met the silhouette in the door your jaw dropped.  
A muscular male entered the gym, not noticing you. His six foot tall frame towered, casting shadows in the dimly-lit room. His blond hair seemed to fall perfectly, and when he turned your (e/c) eyes met baby blues.  
"I apologize, m'am, I didn't notice you here," he said with a small smile.  
"Oh no, it's alright. Don't worry about it," you nodded.  
The man set down a bag and began to bandage his hands, staring right at you.  
"So what's your name?" you asked to break the silence.  
"Steve Rogers. It's a pleasure to meet you...?" He held out a hand for you to shake. Very gentlemanly.  
"(Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N)" you shook his hand.  
"I don’t recognize the name. Are you new?" Steve asked.  
"I haven’t been here long, " you shrugged.  
He nodded in understanding, securing the end of his bandage and leaning against the wall, looking at you with intrigue.  
"I'm to go on a mission in a couple of days. I'm certain I'll be killed, so there's not a point in getting that attached to me," you laughed.  
Steve chuckled. "I'm sure you'll be ok"**

**"Fury, I insist on going with her" Steve said firmly. You looked at him wide eyed.  
“And I insist you stay here, Rogers, whether you like it or not!" Fury barked. Steve stood up.  
"No. Fury, she's a new recruit. She'll be killed on her own. I don't care how angry you are at me, I'm going and that's it," Steve said. Fury sighed in defeat.  
"Fine, Rogers. But you'll owe me after this," he said.  
Steve smiled at you, and you nervously smiled back.**

**Steve had yet to be informed about your abilities. Natasha had told you that she heard Fury was thinking about making you an Avenger, but you hoped he didn’t. You were barely an agent. You only had enough training to, hopefully, keep yourself from getting killed. You weren’t ready to be part of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.  
Fury went easy on you, sending you on a retrieval mission. You were meant to spy on an enemy base and gather information about their plans to attack SHIELD. He wouldn’t tell you how he knew, but Fury swore he knew that this group was plotting against them.  
You were grateful for Steve’s stubbornness. You were sure you’d end up getting killed or, at the very least, caught. You hadn’t had any field training, just basic gun handling and hand-to-hand combat. You might be able to shoot the leg of an attacker, but you certainly weren’t Clint or Natasha level.  
You had, however, been trained for recon. Clint had shown you how to get anywhere within SHIELD through the air vents. As long as the heater or AC weren’t turned on, you would be fine. Steve wouldn’t be able to fit, but you would.  
Of course, you always had your secret weapon. That was why SHIELD chose you in the first place. But every time you thought about using it, memories of your childhood flashed through your mind. All you could see was children running in terror as you accidentally called the lighting down on a tree. All you could hear were the voices of children and adults alike calling you a monster and a freak. Even your parents couldn’t defend you. They were afraid, too.**

**You shook your head and steeled yourself. Things were different now. You were a SHIELD agent, and you were on a mission with Steve freaking Rogers. Captain America himself. You could do this.  
You found their base and looked around for a vent. Finding one near the top of the building, you had Steve boost you up so you could reach. The metal was old and cracked, and two of the screws were missing. It was easy enough to rip the cover off. Steve lifted you as high as he could which gave you enough of a boost to crawl inside. He then promised to wait by the door in case either of you got caught.  
You blew out a breath as you began crawling through. You could hear the murmuring voices growing louder and knew you were reaching the main office. You found the cover to the vent inside the meeting room, and when you looked between the metal grates, you could see several men in black uniforms discussing the big blue print map on the long rectangular table.  
What you didn’t know was that the wall supporting the air vent had severe water damage, and though you didn’t weigh very much, it was too much for the vent to handle. The old metal and worn drywall came crashing down, bringing you down with it. The grated cover broke off and the walls of the vent tore apart, leaving you exposed in the corner of the room filled with very angry assassins.  
“She’s a spy!” one yelled.  
“A SHIELD spy!” another corrected.  
“Get her!” the man in charge cried.  
You held your hands in front of your face in fear. You were trapped in a corner – how in the world were you going to escape?  
A flash of light surrounded the room and you looked up in surprise. When you saw a dozen men lying on the floor, some twitching, some deadly still, you understood what had happened. Holding your hands up activated your power and you struck every single one of them with lighting.  
Steve came rushing in, worried that you were hurt. His gaze turned confused when he looked at you, seeming to be the only one unharmed. “What happened?”  
“There’s something Fury didn’t tell you…” you began, standing. He rushed over and offered a hand, and you accepted it though you didn’t need it.  
“What is it?” he asked.  
“I have lightning powers,” you said nonchalantly, trying to make it seem like a smaller deal than it was. “It wasn’t intentional. The vent broke and I fell and they all came rushing towards me so I put my hands up and… I struck them with lightning.”  
He looked between you and the charred remains of enemy agents and nodded. “Lightning powers. That’s new.”  
“It’s not weird?” you asked, surprised by his calm reaction.  
He smiled softly at you. “It’s not weird.”  
You grinned up at him. Finally, someone who could still look at you like you were a regular person after seeing what you could do. Overwhelmed from finally feeling accepted, you threw your arms around him. He responded immediately, wrapping his arms around your waist. Warmth and butterflies rushed through you as you held him close.  
He pulled back enough to keep you in his arms and look you in the eye. “I’m going to ask Fury if I can be your mission partner from now on.”  
“Really?” you breathed, looking up at him.  
He smiled. “I don’t ever want to be without you.”  
You nibbled your lip, your eyes darting between his lips and his eyes. He seemed to get the hint as he tilted his head, his eyes fluttering closed. He pressed his lips to yours and a sigh escaped through your nose. His lips were soft and inviting and they made you feel safe and loved.  
“I like the sound of you being my partner,” you said cheekily as you pulled away for air.”  
He let out a chuckle. “Me too.”**


	45. Going Under

**Going Under**  
Request for united we stand, divided we fall  
A/N: Co-written by The Silver Iris.  
There wasn’t an intended timeline but the above co-author included the stuff about the AI, so I left it there.  
“So,it starts off with the reader and Steve in a mission and reader gets injected with a poison that puts her in a coma and makes her go a little crazy and delirious.”

You jolted awake, looking around frantically. None of your surroundings were familiar, so through your blurred vision, you looked for key objects, resulting in a hospital gown, life support IVs, a heart monitor, and rushing nurses. You felt like a doll, being crowded by so many people as they poked and prodded at you, shining lights in your face, asking you questions, checking stats.  
Once the commotion had died down, you finally asked your burning question.  
"What's going on?" Your voice was raspy from lack of use. A nurse smiled softly upon seeing that you were conscious.  
"I apologize for being in your face so much," she said. "It's just… you've been in a comafor seven months."   
Your eyes widened. “What?!”  
"I know; it's hard to believe. You were on a mission and you got attacked. You were injected with some kind of toxin that put you in a coma. Captain Rogers transported you here, to SHIELD’s infirmary."   
You took a second to absorb it all. That couldn't be right. You were only out for a second… right?  
Once you had been fully checked out, you were allowed to have visitors. Of course, you could only expect Steve Rogers, your boyfriend of over a year, to visit you first.  
He didn't.  
Instead, it was Tony Stark and Pepper Potts who came to see you. They had bought you ten different bouquets of flowers and spent their time catching you up on all that had happened.  
"I created an artificial intelligence," Tony listed.  
"The artificial intelligence was too intelligent and tried to take over the world, resulting in the Avengers gaining three new recruits; two Sokovian mutants and the Falcon," Pepper continued.   
Clint and Natasha were next. Feeling like a broken record, you expected every next person to be Steve, but it ended up being someone else. Up until the last visitor, you never gave up hope. But when the day was over, and the love of your life still hadn't arrived, you knew something was wrong.  
The first thing you did when you got out of the hospital was go to your and Steve's shared apartment. When you first arrived, you could see the lights on through the window. You could hear Steve's loving voice from the outside, and it melted your heart. You were glad to know that nothing bad had happened to him. However, the moment you heard the sound of another feminine voice giggling at something he said, all of your hope disappeared. You calmly knocked on the door, awaiting an answer.  
The door was opened by a young woman, a wide smile on her face.  
"Hello," she greeted. "Who are you?"  
"I should ask you the same thing," you mumbled. You had the smallest sliver of hope, buried under all of your jealousy and suspicion. Maybe it wasn't what it looked like.  
Then Steve came through the hall and approached the open door. He froze when he saw you, a shocked expression on his face.  
"Y/N?" he greeted in surprise.   
"Oh, this is your ex, (y/n)?" the other woman asked, looking at Steve.  
You gasped and a tear fell from your eye. "Ex?" you repeated. "I'm in a coma for seven months and wake up to find that the man I love is cheating on me and calling me his ex?" You could feel the water works now, fighting it off as best you could.  
"No, I'm not cheating on you," he said calmly, approaching the woman to wrap his arm around her back. You shuddered, thinking about all of the times he did that to you. He gave a slight smile to her, and she smiled back. "I've found my true love."   
You felt like your heart had been ripped from your chest.   
"Please (Y/N), understand. She's the one. Don't I deserve to be happy?" the blond asked calmly.  
That was it.  
You ran away, barely able to see. So you weren't the one? You had never made him happy? Why did he pretend then, moving in with you, treating you like a princess? He had just been looking for a placeholder until somebody that he really loved came along.

You jolted awake with a gasp on your lips. This time, you knew exactly where you were.  
“Oh! She’s awake!” a voice called. You turned your head groggily, coming to face a widely smiling nurse. She called the doctor over and they checked your vitals, making sure you were alright.  
“You gave us quite a scare,” the nurse commented. “You were in a coma for seven months! That mission you went on with Captain Rogers must have been intense.”  
You cringed at the mention of your true love’s name. You sighed internally. True love. He had been yours, but you hadn’t been his…  
You looked around, noting that all of the flowers Tony and Pepper had brought you were gone. And the nurse was talking to you like you’d just woken for the first time…  
“Is this the first time I’ve been awake?” you asked, your voice scratchy. You certainly didn’t feel like you’d been out of this bed.  
“Yes,” the nurse replied with a nod. “There were some eye flutters and hand twitches, but this is the first big response we’ve gotten since you were brought in.”  
If this was the first time you were waking up…  
“Is she really awake?” a familiar voice called from the door. Your heart rate increased and your blood ran cold as you lifted your gaze. You found a very familiar blond standing there, holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers. A tear slid down your cheek as the nurse waved him in.  
“We’ll give you two some privacy,” the nurse stated, leaving the room.  
“Hey,” Steve smiled, sitting at the edge of your bed. You scooted away from him.  
He frowned. “What’s wrong?”  
You chewed your lower lip, watching as he set the bouquet on your bedside table.  
A gentle hand cupped your cheek, turning your head to face him. “What is it?” he asked softly, seeming genuinely concerned.  
“Who is she?” you asked, unable to tell if your images of him living with another woman were real or imaginary.  
“Who is who?” he replied, tilting his head in confusion.  
“The woman you left me for,” you explained softly, your heart breaking as the words left your lips.  
“The woman I what? Who in the world told you I left you?”  
You looked him over, taking in the frown on his lips and the crease in his brow. He didn’t smell like anyone’s perfume, and glancing at his neck, you saw his half of the matching dog tags you’d had engraved as an anniversary gift.  
“You mean… we’re still together?” you asked brokenly. He leaned over and wrapped you in a hug.  
“Honey, of course we’re still together. What, did you think I’d find someone new after you fell into a coma? I would never do that to you. I love you, (y/n). Forever and always.”  
You allowed a small smile to grace your lips as you weakly returned the hug. “The coma… it made me think things. It was like a dream. I thought that I woke up, and everyone visited me but you, so I went to see you, and you were living with someone else, and you told me that she was ‘the one,’ and that I needed to let you be happy.”  
He saw the tears in your eyes and his heart broke. “It was all a dream, I promise. I love you and only you. I would never leave you, especially while you were in a coma. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”  
You nodded, fully believing him. You scooted over to give him room, and he took the hint, climbing gently onto the bed beside you. He lied down and slid an arm under your head as a pillow, smiling when you snuggled into his chest. He kissed your head and held you close, offering you food and water, making sure you were taken care of. You weren’t tired, since you’d spent seven months unconscious, but you were more than content to simply lie in his arms.


	46. Thrill Ride

**Thrill Ride**  
Request for Tammie Stark  
“Hi, I just want to say that you're amazing and I absolutely love your stories!  
If it's alright, I'd like to request an avenger story where Steve and the reader go to the amusement park but when they try something scary, the reader starts hyperventilating and Steve thinks, at one point, she'll pass out. So he takes her away, calms her down and cheers her up.”

Your hand tightly held Steve’s as he led you through the crowds of people at the fair. Your fingers were laced, keeping you two connected. Having been given the day off, you opted for spending it at the county fair, experiencing the thrilling rides and fattening junk food and hard-to-win games. Steve seemed to have a knack for the latter, having won you a stuffed panda that was almost as big as you were.   
You hadn’t been to a county fair or amusement park since you were a child, so it was almost like you were seeing everything for the first time. Every ride was new to you, though the idea of a roller coaster was very familiar. You were frightened by some of the options, like the ones that rose nearly a hundred feet into the air and dropped you down, or the ones that rocked you back and forth or tipped you upside down. But the simpler ones, the ones that spun or followed a simple track, seemed like fun. And you loved trying new things.  
Steve led you to a rather short line that led to one of the spinning rides. It rose up in the air, but it didn’t seem to go too high or too fast, so you figured you’d be fine. There was a fence between the ride and the rest of the fair, offering some extra space for people to put their belongings, like prizes they’d won or flip-flops that would fall off during the ride. Once you got to the front, you tossed your oversized panda into said space, flashing your entrance bracelet to the ride monitor so he’d open the gate and let you in.  
You followed Steve to a car of your favorite color, standing aside so you could get in first. He followed and closed the door, then buckled the both of you into the seat. You excitedly held the safety bar while his arm secured around your waist, holding you against his side. You smiled and snuggled against him, instantly feeling safer.  
The ride began smoothly, slowly turning in a full circle, hovering just a few feet above the ground. Within moments, it picked up speed and height, rising high into the air. Your breath hitched in your chest when you looked out over the rest of the fair, realizing how high up you had to be in order to see that much. In addition to the height and the whole ride rotating, each individual car began to spin against the wind, adding to the thrill and adrenaline.  
“Thrill” wasn’t the word you would use. As the ride rose higher and spun faster, your breathing followed suit. You found yourself short of breath, clutching your chest with one hand, your eyes as wide as saucers. Steve noticed the expression of sheer terror on your face and he panicked. He rested a hand on your cheek, holding you close to him, breathing a sigh of relief when the ride began to slow down. You were still gripping the safety bar as hard as you could when it came to a stop.  
He rushed to get out of the car and help you out, cradling you against his chest. He led you to a bench and sat down, pulling you down on his lap. He pressed tender kisses all over your face, his hands gently caressing your cheeks and neck, until your breathing slowed and you removed your hand from your chest.  
“Are you alright, honey?” he asked softly, resting his forehead on yours. You nodded slowly, leaning against him. He tilted his head and pressed a kiss to your brow, sighing softly.  
“I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I didn’t think the ride would upset you.”  
You shook your head. “It wasn’t your fault. I didn’t think it would, either.”  
“I’m sorry,” he murmured again. “What do you want to do now? Walk around, get something to eat, play some games?”  
You nodded, happy to do anything that didn’t involve flying or spinning. You accepted Steve’s outstretched hands, letting him gently pull you from the bench. He kept one hand around one of yours, lacing your fingers to remind you that he was there, ready to take care of you. You smiled and leaned against him as you walked, making sure to fetch your panda from the ride before walking too far away from it.  
Deciding that you could eat, you headed to the long line of concession stands, eventually deciding on the snow cone cart. The flavors were usually mild and the cold temperature of chopped ice sounded particularly pleasant. You stood in line with Steve, ordering your favorite flavor while he opted for cherry. He then found a vacant picnic table seated under an awning and led you to it, sitting across from you. You stole bites off each other’s cones, and you let out a giggle when some ice melted and flavor dribbled down his chin. When he quirked a brow and tilted his head in adorable confusion, you leaned over the table and pressed a kiss to his chin, effectively slurping up the running syrup. He blushed under the contact and smiled, tilting his head to catch your lips before you sat back down.  
“I love you,” you smiled, resting your arm atop the table. His arm rested near yours, your hands joined, his thumb soothingly running back and forth across your knuckles.  
“I love you too,” he returned, lifting your hand to his lips and gently kissing the back of it. You hummed softly, nibbling at your snow cone. Your earlier panic was forgotten as you looked into the baby blue eyes of your boyfriend, feeling safe and happy.


	47. Somewhere I Belong

**Somewhere I Belong**  
Idea from The Silver Iris  
A/N: Do not check up on requests. I will not answer your inquiries, and your impatience makes me not want to write it at all.  
“he finds a stray wolf that he keeps as a pet.”

You ducked under a bench, hiding from the passersby. You had grown accustomed to hiding when you ventured away from the alley that had become your home. People weren’t used to seeing your kind freely roaming the streets, and considering how harsh they looked at mutants, you didn’t think they’d take kindly to you.   
Thankfully, it was dark, so it was easier for you to hide. You stuck to the shadows, grateful for people’s ignorance. They would see your form creeping along the wall and just assume you were a big dog, not a wild wolf. You weren’t wild in the dangerous sense; you would never hurt anyone unless they threatened your life. But you were alone and living in the streets, and people liked to shoot first and ask questions never.  
You slunk through the shadows, making your way back to your alley. There were plenty of discarded cardboard boxes to provide a small house, complete with old blankets to sleep on. Food was easy to come by if you didn’t mind rats and squirrels. Anything was better than starving to death. The alley was in a lesser used part of town, so you didn’t have to worry about wandering humans. On the rare occasion that they did creep through your alley, they paid no mind to the large box full of blankets and fur, continuing on their merry way.  
You were just turning the corner to saunter down your alleyway when your hind paw caught a crack in the sidewalk. You let out a whimper as you tumbled to the ground, landing on your side. You twisted around to see the damage, finding your paw bent in an unnatural way. You struggled to stand, careful not to put pressure on your injured paw. You only managed a couple of steps before it accidentally touched the ground and you collapsed again.  
“Oh, no,” a soft male voice murmured from behind you. Your ears flattened against your head and your eyes widened in fear. You weren’t supposed to be seen.  
“Are you alright?” the man asked, resting a surprisingly gentle hand on your side. You turned your head to face the man, finding a rather handsome blond, his blue eyes wide with concern. His gaze traveled down your body until he found your injured paw.   
“That looks like it hurts,” he stated. He leaned down, wrapping his arms around you. Panic spiked and you struggled against his hold.  
“Hey, easy, calm down,” he whispered soothingly, not releasing his hold. His arms were strong but gentle, trying to prove that he didn’t want to hurt you. “I just want to help.”  
You relaxed at the sound of his voice, ceasing your struggling. He lifted you in his arms, careful not to bump your injured paw, and stood. He began walking, presumably, towards his house. You gazed up at him as he did so, surprised by his kindness. Humans had never been so caring towards you before.

Once at his apartment, he gently laid you on the couch before disappearing down the hall. You were lying on your side, your injured leg resting atop the other, your front legs hanging over the edge of the couch. The man returned quickly with an armful of medical supplies and knelt down before you.  
“I suppose I should introduce myself,” he stated as he gently took your paw in his hands. “I’m Steve.”  
You whimpered in acknowledgement. Steve. That was a nice name.  
“Do you have a name?” he inquired. You let out a weak bark that was meant to be an answer. He chuckled.  
“Should I guess?” When you barked again, he nodded. “Alright. How about… Luna?”  
You stared at him.  
“Alright, not Luna,” he agreed, applying some medicine to your paw. “Wolfy?”  
You let out a soft sigh, causing him to chuckle.  
“What about… (y/n)?”  
You barked happily, raising your head to look at him properly.  
He smiled. “(y/n) it is.” He finished tending to your leg, wrapping it in an Ace bandage. He then headed to the kitchen, returning with a plastic bag full of ice and a towel. He used the towel to wrap the ice around your paw. You whimpered at the cold but soon relaxed, realizing that it felt good against your sore limb.  
He sat by your head on the couch. You lifted your head so you could rest it in his lap. “You’re beautiful,” he commented, carding his fingers through the thick fur of your neck. You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch, feeling more relaxed than you had in months. The soothing sensation washed over you and you felt your body shifting. Your eyes popped open when you realized what was happening. A gasp from Steve told you that your assumption was correct.  
“You’re human?” he breathed, looking down at you. A blush stained his cheeks when he realized your fur had been your only clothing, and he scrambled to pull the blanket from the back of the couch and drape it over your form.  
“I…” You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t think you’d ever be human. “I’m a wolf,” you explained. “A witch cast a spell on me that I could become human if I found my home.”  
He smiled. “Am I your home then?”  
You sat up, clutching the blanket to your chest, and turned to look at him. “You’ve shown me more kindness than anyone in my life. Everyone’s afraid of me. They run, or worse, try to hurt me. If anyone else had seen I was hurt, they’d have put me out of my misery. But you took me home and bandaged my wound like you cared about me.”  
He smiled, resting a hand on your cheek. “You were hurt. I couldn’t just leave you out there to die.”  
“Thank you,” you breathed, staring into his eyes.  
He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’ll be right back. I’ll get you some clothes. They might be big, but they’ll be better than a blanket.”  
He rose from the couch with a smile on his lips and disappeared down the hall. You leaned against the back of the couch with a soft smile. You were home.


	48. Toy Story

Toy Story  
Idea from The Silver Iris  
A/N: Still no guest requests, and no birthday requests. I can set the story for a certain date but I will not guarantee to post it by that date. No time sensitive requests.  
I made it a regular life AU, no Avengers. Reader also has a kid.  
“he is forced to work at a toy store because he can't afford rent anymore.”

“I really appreciate this,” Steve told his new employer as she showed him around the store. “I need this job.”  
“I completely understand,” she replied, leading him to the office where all the supplies were kept. “You seem like a nice guy, and your references checked out.”  
She got him his apron and showed him where the box cutters, price guns, and radios were stored. She showed him how to clock in and out though he didn’t have a number yet, showed him how to sign equipment in and out.   
“By your first day, we’ll have a nametag and an employee number for you,” she told Steve. “How does Tuesday at ten work?”  
“Works perfectly,” Steve smiled. “Thanks again.”  
“You’re welcome,” she smiled. “The store opens at ten, so you’ll get to see how everything works while it’s still morning and slow.”  
“I’ll be here,” the blond promised. They shook hands and the manager walked Steve to the door. They bid their goodbyes and Steve headed out to his beat up car, excited for Tuesday.

You held your son’s hand as you approached the toy store. It was around ten-thirty in the morning; you preferred to visit when the store opened so there would be smaller lines and fewer children fighting for the same toys. You knew they got a shipment every Monday, so you always tried go to on a Tuesday so you could see what new toys they had in stock. You had become loyal to this particular store, to the point that your son knew it by name and insisted that you visit every week. You didn’t always buy a new toy, but you liked to see what they had, and you had become a bit of a royal customer, so you always got good discounts.  
You could see new displays in the front window as you led your son inside. He saw the same display and immediately ran towards it, checking out the new toys. He picked up a Hobbit: Battle of the Five Armies Lego set, eyeing the character pieces and the scenes you could put together. You were intrigued as well, looking at the different options. Each set had a different army and some of them had two armies battling. You were mostly interested in character pieces, but you loved spending a day building Lego scenes with your son.  
“Can we, Mommy?” he asked you sweetly, looking up at you with big (e/c) puppy dog eyes.  
You giggled. “Of course, (son/n).”  
“(y/n)!” the manager greeted pleasantly. You turned to look at her with a smile.  
“Hey, Ashley,” you smiled. “You took down the ‘Now Hiring’ sign. Did you find someone?”  
She nodded. “Oh, yeah. He’s a real cutie. He’s working right now, actually. I’ve got him on the morning shift. You should meet him.”  
You lived in a small town, so you knew the workers of the shops you frequented the most, like this one.  
“Sure, sounds great,” you nodded.   
You wandered around the store with (s/n) close by, clutching his new Hobbit Lego set in his hands. You knew he would rip it open as soon as you got home. You spotted a tall man with dirty blond hair and vibrant blue eyes stocking an end cap, so you sauntered over to say hi.  
“Hey, I’m (y/n). You must be the new guy.”  
He smiled. “I’m Steve. Do the customers always greet new employees?”  
You giggled. “Just me. I’m a regular visitor here. I know all the workers.”  
“Pleased to meet you,” he stated, offering you his hand. You took it with the realization that Ashley hadn’t been exaggerating – he was a cutie.  
“I’m (s/n)!” your son introduced, grinning up at the man.  
Steve chuckled. “Hi, (s/n). You like The Hobbit?”  
Your son nodded excitedly. “Thorin’s the best!”  
“I like Bilbo,” Steve commented. You smiled, glad that he could hold a conversation with (s/n).  
“Hey, (s/n),” Ashley called. “I’ve got some new Hobbit action figures. You wanna see them?”  
Your son’s eyes lit up and he looked at you pleadingly. You let out a laugh and nodded, watching as Ashley led him to a new display that housed a dozen figurines. You turned back to Steve, noticing that his gaze was stuck on you. He blushed at being caught.  
“This is kind of forward of me but… Do you want to grab lunch with me when you get off work?” you asked, biting your lip anxiously as you waited for an answer.  
He was taken back, a shy smile creeping across his face. “Do you offer that to all new employees or am I special?”  
You let out a laugh. “Just you, I promise.”  
He smiled. “I’d love to. I’m new in town, though, so I’ll have to rely on your judgment of a good place to go.”  
You grinned. “There’s a diner down the road here. It’s my favorite place in town.”  
“Sounds great. I get off at three; I can meet you over there?”  
“Perfect,” you smiled. “I can drop (s/n) off at my sister’s on the way.”  
“What’s the diner called?” Steve asked, pulling a pen and notepad from his apron pocket.  
“Annie’s,” you replied. “It’s just a few blocks down the road.”  
He nodded, scribbling down the name before stuffing the paper back into his pocket. “I’ll be there as soon as I’m off work.”  
“Great,” you smiled. “See you later, Steve.”  
“Looking forward to it, (y/n).”  
You reunited with (s/n) and bought his Lego set, exiting the store with a grin on your lips.


	49. Honeymoon - SMUT

Honeymoon  
Request for Faze  
A/N: Borrowed some ideas from my roleplay with The Silver Iris.  
“Hey could you do a Steve x Reader smut? Any kind of plot will work.”

You grinned as you and your newlywed husband entered the secluded cabin that he had rented for your honeymoon. It was by a lake on the far side of a small town, far from civilization and distractions. You both agreed to turn off your phones for the duration of the vacation, not that you would have service in this part of town anyway. For a whole week, it would be just the two of you.  
“What should we do first?” you asked Steve as you set your bags down on the floor. The cabin was small and cozy, with a living room, adjacent kitchen, a bedroom at the end of the hall, and a bathroom that branched out from the bedroom.   
He dropped his bag and wrapped his arms around your waist. “I’ve been waiting to take that dress off all day,” he murmured in your ear, running his hands down the bodice of your wedding gown. “And I’d love to test how sturdy the bed is.”  
You took his hands with a giggle and led him down the hall to the bedroom, closing the door once you were both inside. You sat on the bed and Steve crawled over you, gently lying you down and hovering above you. He kissed you sweetly, his hand on your hip. Your fingers carded through his short blonde locks as his kisses traveled to your neck. His lips peppered your skin, pausing here and there to suck on the sensitive flesh, working his way to your chest. His hand reached under your back to find the zipper of your dress, pulling it down and pulling the fabric from your torso. You gladly obliged, resting your arms by your head so he could remove the strapless garment completely. Left in your panties, as you hadn’t worn a bra, you pushed his jacket from his shoulders and slipped off his tie before fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. He assisted, practically ripping the shirt open so he could discard it somewhere on the floor. You then reached for the fastening of his pants, opening it and pushing his slacks to his knees. He kicked them off the rest of the way.  
He kissed down your chest, cupping one breast in his hand while his lips found the other. His tongue dragged across the muscle before he sucked on your nipple, causing you to arch your back, pushing your chest closer to his mouth. He groaned in approval, sending vibrations down your spine. Your hand tangled in his hair as his lips traveled down your torso, nipping your abdomen. He slipped a hand under the waistband of your panties, pulling them down and following them with his mouth.   
He rested between your legs, glancing up at you before dragging his tongue between your folds. You gasped and arched your back as he repeated the action with more pressure, his tongue sliding against your bundle of nerves. His hands held your hips as he sucked on your clit, groaning against your heat, drawing desperate moans from your mouth. His tongue slipped into your entrance, dipping in and out as you rocked your hips against him for more friction. He held your ass, kneading the skin there as his face buried between your legs.   
You felt a familiar fire burning in your belly as you came undone with just his tongue. You knew what he was capable of. He felt it too. He licked and sucked harder, holding your hips steady as your orgasm burst and flooded all over his tongue. He helped you ride it out, not pulling away until your breaths slowed and your hips ceased their squirming.  
He kissed his way back up your body, grinning when you grasped his hair and pulled his mouth to yours, not even minding the taste of yourself on his tongue.   
Your hands found the waistband of his boxers and pushed. He complied quickly, wiggling out of the garment. Your gasped as his erection freely rubbed against your sensitive heat. You were already ready for another round.   
With a hand on your hip, he pressed closer. You spread your legs to help him guide himself in, letting out a moan when he pushed inside you. Your head fell back on the pillows as he began thrusting, drawing moans from your throat. The hand on your hip slid down to grasp your thigh, pulling you closer so he could bury himself deeper. You wrapped your legs around his waist, allowing a new, delicious angle. Your moans came louder and more frequent as his thrusts came faster and rougher as though he was losing control.   
“My Captain,” you moaned, resting your hands by your head.  
“My goddess,” he groaned, his free hand pinning yours. He had been calling you his goddess since you first began dating. He practically worshipped the ground you walked on, and he told you that you deserved to be devoted to like a goddess.   
Your wriggled your hands free of his hold and ran them down his chest, lightly dragging your nails and leaving scratch marks on his skin. He moaned at the sensation and picked up his pace, thrusting into you harder. His nails scraped at your thigh, making your name fall from his lips.   
“Captain,” you gasped when he angled his thrusts and hit that perfect spot inside you. Another orgasm built up in your belly; you loved when there was more than one in one night.  
“Goddess,” he countered, feeling his own release coming close. His thrusts became fast and sloppy, losing rhythm but not pleasure as he pounded into you. He lowered himself, propped up by his left arm, his head buried in your neck. He peppered the skin there, sucking on it, groaning when your nails cascaded down his back.  
Moans ripped from your throat as the knot inside you exploded, your final orgasm overwhelming you. Steve followed quickly, moaning your name like a prayer, slowly coming to a stop and collapsing on top of you. You didn’t mind, wrapping your arms around him and carding a hand through his hair. He buried his face in your neck, kissing it lazily.  
“I love you, wife,” he smiled cheekily.  
You giggled. “I love you too, husband.”  
The two of you remained there for a while, just relaxing in each other’s arms.


	50. Doormat

Doormat  
A/N: For my wifey who’s having a bad day. Love you Bucky!

Day in and day out you played maid to the Avengers – cooking every meal as you knew they’d be tired from their missions, cleaning up the Tower so they could easily find their belongings, making sure the kitchen was stocked with everyone’s favorite snacks. You would cut time out of your busy schedule to have one-on-one discussions with each of them, sometimes offering massages, always being an open ear into which they could let loose their problems, offering hugs and comfort to the best of your ability.  
And did you ever receive so much as a “thank you” from any of them?  
Psh. No. They just continued on their merry way like you were some kind of machine for them to vent their frustrations on and move along. No one acknowledged how hard you worked to cook dinner. No one congratulated you on how spotless the Tower looked. No one expressed any sort of gratitude as you acted like a human diary.  
Well, one person thanked you, once in a while. Steve, the out-of-date gentleman. He always knew how to treat a lady. But even he would get tired and forget, and why would you thank someone every time for a job they do every day without fail? Surely they know you appreciate them…  
Well, you didn’t. You didn’t believe anyone appreciated all of the hard work you put into making sure they were all mentally okay and well taken care of. No one thanked you. No one offered to return the favor. No one complimented your cooking or cleaning or your ability to listen to problems without judging. No one paid you any mind once their needs were met and you were no longer necessary.

You stood in the kitchen once again, preparing sandwiches for lunch. Everyone had the day off and you thought they would like to relax at home with food and games.  
You thought wrong.  
Tony came sauntering in for his umpteenth cup of coffee. “Hey, (nickname). Whatcha making?”  
“Lunch,” you replied as though it were obvious. And to you, it was. You prepared meals at the same time every day – did they really care so little that they hadn’t caught on?  
“What for?” he asked. “The team and I are heading to the beach. It’s sunny and warm and there are plenty of hot girls in bikinis waiting for Tony Stark’s attention.”  
No one had told you that they were all leaving for the day. No one thought to warn you that they wouldn’t be home, much less invite you to come along.  
“Oh…” you replied, setting down the knife you were using to spread condiments on bread. “Have fun, then…”  
“Thanks,” he said, kissing your cheek. He took his coffee and shuffled out of the room.  
Tears welled up in your eyes. All this time, you kept your own emotions at bay, knowing that the team needed you to be strong and level. But they obviously didn’t care about your feelings, so what did it matter who saw you crying?  
You let go of everything you had been holding and dropped to the floor, bringing your knees to your chest. Wrapping your arms around your legs, you buried your face in the fabric of your pants and let everything out. Sobs wracked your body, tears staining your clothes, cries falling from your lips with no gate to hold them back. You were sure everyone had left already, without so much as a, “See you later, (y/n).”   
Socked feet thudded softly across the tile flooring, stopping short when the intruder saw your broken form. He dropped to the ground beside you, and you instantly knew who it was.  
Steve.  
You cried harder as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you onto his lap. You hadn’t wanted to be seen. You just assumed that no one would bother coming to the kitchen, since you were obviously making two dozen sandwiches for yourself and no one else.   
“(y/n),” Steve breathed softly, one hand carding through your hair while the other rubbed your back. “Honey, what’s wrong?”  
“No o-one c-cares,” you sobbed into his chest, not caring that your tears left dark patches on his shirt.  
“What are you talking about?” he inquired, confused.  
“I cook, a-and clean, and I-I listen to everyone’s problems. I take care of the Tower and I make sure everyone eats enough and is in a good mood, and what thanks do I get? Everyone has a fun day off without even thinking about me. No one informed me so that I didn’t waste my time making food for people who wouldn’t even be here. No one wanted me to tag along. No one cares about me!”  
“Shh,” the blond breathed quietly, kissing your head. “Sweetheart, that’s not true. Everyone loves you. They just don’t know how to show it.”  
You shook your head. “That’s crap. No one appreciates what I do for this place. The only person who ever even says ‘thank you’ is you, and you’re still busy and obviously don’t need me.”  
He gently held your face in his hand, turning your head to meet his eyes. “I do need you. I appreciate everything you do. I appreciate how you cook every meal and keep our house clean, and I love how you’re always there when people need someone to talk to. I’m sorry we don’t express our gratitude, but I can honestly say that I’m thankful for you and everything you do.”  
You sniffled, a new batch of tears forming in your eyes. He leaned in and kissed them away.   
“I love you,” he whispered in your ear, holding you close.  
You melted against his chest. “I love you too…”  
Keeping his hand on your face, he tilted your head up and gently pressed his lips to yours. You sighed softly, leaning against him.   
“How about you take a day off?” he asked. “I’ll cook everything for you, and I’ll clean it all up, and you can tell me anything and everything that’s been bugging you, like you do for everyone else. Today will be all about you.”  
“Are you sure?” you asked softly chewing your lip.  
He smiled. “Positive.” He helped you stand and looked at the counter where you had been working.   
“You go sit down and watch a movie. I’ll clean this up and make lunch for us. Sound good?”  
“Sounds good,” you agreed. He kissed you sweetly, hugging you tightly before letting you wander into the adjacent living room. You smiled softly as you sat down on the couch, watching him put together your favorite lunch. When it was prepared, he joined you, putting on your favorite movie to watch. You spent the afternoon in his arms without a care in the world.


	51. Coming Home

Coming Home  
Request for Daffodil  
A/N: The only thing I changed is that they cuddle in the bedroom instead of on the couch.  
“If u not to busy I would like to request a steve x reader  
just a fluffy one shot were he surprises reader with f/flowers and chocolates because he was so busy with missions lately and they cuddle on the couch while eating reader f/dessert?”

You hummed softly to yourself as you stood in the kitchen, pouring boiling water from a kettle into a mug. A bag of peppermint tea sat in the bottom of the mug, waiting to be saturated in the hot water. Steam poured from the ceramic cup as you returned the kettle to its spot on the stove. You measured a couple of spoonfuls of sugar and added them to the mug, stirring until the sweetener had dissolved and the water had turned the appropriate color.  
A soft sigh flowed through your nose as you brought the mug to your lips as gently sipped its steaming contents. You were careful not to burn your tongue as you sauntered into the living room, setting the tea on the coffee table before plopping down on the couch. Rain poured outside, rapping harshly on the windows, offering the perfect weather for snuggling on the couch with hot tea and a good book.   
You leaned against the arm of the couch, wrapping a blanket around yourself and plucking your copy of Ways to Live Forever from the coffee table. An old receipt acted as a bookmark, allowing you to find your place in the middle of chapter three. With another sip of your tea, you continued the story, soon losing yourself in the sweet narration and amusing anecdotes.   
Steve had been taking a lot of missions lately. He was Fury’s current favorite, and he always did his job efficiently. You were proud of his efforts. You knew he was a good Avenger and you knew he was always happy to help. But that didn’t help you much when you were home alone for nights on end. You weren’t a child; you didn’t need company all the time. But you had grown fond of cuddling beside your super soldier every night, so when he was gone for several days, you really felt his absence. The bed was cold and lonely and sleeping alone simply reminded you that Steve wasn’t there.  
After finishing your book, you set it back on the table and picked up your tea. You swallowed the last of the now room temperature liquid, returning the mug to its coaster on the table. Wrapping the blanket further around yourself, you slid further onto the couch, using the armrest as a pillow. Within moments, sleep crept into your mind, pulling you into unconsciousness. 

You awoke to the smell of coffee brewing in the kitchen. A yawn escaped your lips as you stretched your muscles, brows furrowing in confusion. You hadn’t started the coffee pot before your impromptu nap, so who was in your kitchen?  
You kicked off the blanket and swung your legs over the edge of the couch. With another yawn, you stood, grabbing your empty mug from the table to take it to the sink. You nearly dropped it in surprise at the sight that awaited you in the kitchen.  
There stood your favorite muscly blond, a soft smile on his lips as he poured himself a cup of coffee.  
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” he murmured.  
“Steve,” you breathed, setting your mug on the counter before throwing your arms around him. He made sure to release the coffee pot just in time for the ambush, chuckling as he wrapped his arms around you in return. He lifted you into the air as he always did when you were reunited, burying his nose in your hair.   
“I missed you,” you mumbled, refusing to let go. “I thought you weren’t coming back for another couple of days.”  
“I finished the mission early,” he explained. “Fury let me come home instead of making me do paperwork.”  
You kept your arms around his waist. A flash of color caught your eye and you turned to look at the kitchen table. Your lips parted in a gasp when you saw a bouquet of your favorite flowers sitting innocently in a vase.  
You looked up at him with a questioning expression, and he smiled. “I thought it would be a nice surprise.” He then went to the fridge, opened the door, and took something out. Turning back to you, he offered you your favorite chocolate bar. “I know how much you like these.”  
“And only one store carries them!” you added, smiling at him. He had made a special trip on his way home, just for you.  
He placed his hands on your hips, kissing you sweetly. “How about I make (f/dessert) and we watch a movie?”  
You nodded. “Do I get to help?”  
He grinned. “Of course. You’re the taste tester.”

When the dessert was done, he took out a serving for each of you and carried them to the bedroom. You followed, picking out a movie along the way. He made up the bed with pillows and blankets, setting your drinks and desserts on the bedside table. You inserted The Borrowers into the DVD player and grabbed the remote before climbing onto the bed. Steve was sitting up, leaning against the headboard that was covered in pillows. You leaned into his side, his arm wrapping around you as you rested your head on his shoulder.   
You played the movie and set the remote down, picking up your dish of dessert. A happy hum left your lips as you chewed and swallowed, snuggling closer to Steve’s side. It had been a while since either of you had made your favorite dessert. It was usually a special occasion thing, like birthdays or when there was something to celebrate. And Steve coming home after a long mission was plenty of reason to celebrate.  
When you both finished, he set your empty dishes on the bedside table. He pressed a kiss to your head as you turned and snuggled further into his side. Your arms wrapped around his torso, burying your face in his neck. His arms were secure around your back, your feather comforter draped across the both of you.   
“I love you,” he murmured, resting his head on yours.   
“I love you too,” you replied, sighing softly before sleep claimed you again.


End file.
